


You've Got to Be Kitten Me

by dugindeep (hotsauce)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Frottage, Jensen Gets a Cat, Kittens, M/M, Social Anxiety, Veterinarian Jared Padalecki, alternative universe, bike messenger Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 21:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19385212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/dugindeep
Summary: Jensen lives a routine, solitary life with little to no interaction and he likes it just fine. He’d rather not deal with the fuss and rejection of making and keeping connections, so when a stray cat shows up at his apartment building and begs for attention every time they cross paths, Jensen does what he can to ignore it. Of course, that doesn’t last long and he finds himself carving out a space in his world to make it feel at home. Along the road of pet ownership, Jensen meets the very nice and very handsome Dr. Jared Padalecki. The veterinarian's open, warm personality gets to Jensen the same way his new cat has, and Jensen fights against his own hang-ups to get to know him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2019 SPN_J2_Big Bang. 
> 
> See the wonderful [Art Post](https://blondebitz.livejournal.com/474669.html) by blondebitz.

It starts with a meow.

Just a tiny little _meow_ that must be a figment of Jensen’s imagination. It is such a wee, crackled sound that he only pauses for a second on his way up the steps to his apartment building.

The second meow, as raspy and teeny as the first, halts him on the fourth stair.

The third makes him turn around and stare at the space where a white ball appears from the side of the cement steps. The fourth, fifth, and sixth meows keep him frozen in place as he watches the long-haired bulk of fur stand at attention. 

It’s perfectly set on its hind legs, front paws presented perfectly side by side, and head tilting to one side as it opens its mouth for yet another squeak. Brilliant white hair stands at attention like a lion’s mane but those wide green eyes are softer than a large beast. Plus, thing is nowhere near the size.

The cries for attention have a strange effect on Jensen’s belly. Something warm and giddy bubbles up at each noise even as Jensen furrows his brows and sets his lips in a tight, grim line.

When the kitten steps forward, Jensen steps back, his heel rutting up against the next stair.

_Meow._

“No,” he says in the same kind of low whisper as the wee feline.

Another step and another meow, and the kitten brings itself up the first stair. More meows – testing, asking, maybe even begging – come with each accomplished step, and Jensen fights his way up the next few stairs until he trips at the top and falls on the top stair, sprawling out on the stoop.

He does not do pets. Never cared for the noise or the mess. Hell, the responsibility was more of a sticking point than anything else. He lives alone with a self-imposed purpose to be solitary and in charge of his own well-being, and that’s it. There is no need to answer to anyone but Jensen. 

It’s why he moved to a big city with too many people to form any real connection after all. Why he’s nearing forty and has, quite frankly, no friends and a thin connection with his mother back home. In his carefully crafted solitary world, there are no questions asked at the deli or coffee shop. Just service and an exchange of goods for money. 

He rather likes the quiet bubble he has in this noisy world.

Yet, somehow, this fluffy white kitten has broken through and speaks right to him, now with hesitant meows and a soft paw at his knee seeking approval to come aboard.

Jensen puts his hand above the cat, ready to move it out of the way, but then it crawls right into his lap to stand at attention on his knee and stare at him. Those big green eyes are wide and unblinking, maybe in a challenge, daring Jensen to do something about its presence.

“Hey, no,” he says, trying to shift his position to disrupt the kitten, but the thing is agile and quickly rights itself on his other thigh. “No. C’mon.” He sighs and tries to move again.

The kitten, however, is determined as ever and re-positions itself just the same. Then it releases its patented raspy meow and Jensen groans.

“Oh, no.”

 _Meow!_ it declares, and he swears it’s a declaration of success.

Jensen does not do relationships. Never needed one to get through the day, week, or month. Doesn’t do pets, not even a fish. And certainly not a cat.

But here he is. Staring into these crystal green saucer-like eyes, he finds himself slowly, carefully, letting his index finger reach out to touch the top of the cat’s head.

* * *

Jensen would like to believe that was it. That all he did was meet a cat, they shared a pet or two … okay, maybe a few dozen. And maybe he smiled a tiny bit when it pushed its face against his finger for more. And maybe he felt a little guilty when he finally got up to his feet and shoo-ed it away.

He did _shoo_. He really did, with his hands all into it. He even managed to turn away from the thing, ignoring all of its curious, confused meows as he unlocked the front door, and slid in through as thin of a space he could make without letting the cat inside.

It stayed on the porch, staring at him through the glass door, opening its mouth as wide as it could go in what Jensen imagined was the creakiest of meows possible for such a tiny body.

That would be it. Nothing more to it. He could return to his life, continue on like there was no issue whatsoever.

Only, none of that was true at all, and Jensen found himself facing that kitten every time he stepped out of his building each morning and upon every return at night. No matter the time of day, so long as Jensen was there, so was the cat.

Every single day of the next month, the cat was awaiting him, meowing and patting one paw on the ground like it wanted to reach out for him.

And every single time, Jensen kept on task and resolutely ignored the puff-ball’s cries for attention.

Well, he liked to think he did.

* * *

About a month into this charade, he finds he can no longer ignore it. Especially not when he is particularly grouchy and exhausted after a long crisscross route of deliveries all through the city.

As he approaches his building, the fur-ball steps out from the far side of the stairs and stops right in his path.

Jensen skirts his bike to a quick stop and the back wheel skids to the side as he gets his feet to the ground.

_Meow!_

Jensen takes a deep breath, willing everything he has to be inside the quiet sanctity of his own apartment. To be anywhere than stuck on his bike with the kitten in his way, an innocent yet needy blockade.

It doesn’t move, not even when he tries to roll a foot forward, coming within inches of the cat. It just stares up at him, paws perfectly set to the sidewalk without a sign of fear.

“What?” Jensen complains. “What do you want?”

 _Meow_ it seems to ask.

Jensen takes a few moments to watch it watch him back. He knows it’s only been a few weeks, but he swears it’s grown some. Maybe even doubled in size, filling out a larger frame. It’s less a tiny bundle of hair and more like a small adult cat now, he thinks. Jensen isn’t completely sure; he doesn’t know anything about cats beyond the fact that they meow and go to the bathroom in a box.

Its meows are a little fuller, deeper, yet still as insistent as all the times they’ve run into one another before.

He pulls back a nearly two feet then rocks forward, testing if the cat will move out of his way.

It doesn’t. Of course, it doesn’t. It holds firmly to its spot on the sidewalk, right in Jensen’s way.

Another few inches of shifting back and forth, Jensen tries to disrupt the cat again to no reaction whatsoever, so he gets off the bike and lifts it up off the ground. All the while, he keeps checking on the cat, utterly frustrated that it refuses to move out of his way. Not even when he steps over it and takes the stairs as quickly as he can while carrying his bike.

As he works his keys in the lock, the cat meows at him again and Jensen responds with the only thing that comes to mind: “Meow!”

The cat sits back on its hind legs and tips its head to the side. After a few stoic blinks, it meows right back at him.

“Meow,” he grumbles, falling into a repeat loop as the cat returns each of his noises with its own.

It’s not a contest, but somehow, he thinks he’s losing.

* * *

Another month passes, and the cat grows in both size and confidence. It now prances up the stairs when he comes home after work or follows him down the sidewalk as he leaves in the morning. Its meows are louder, more assured, as are Jensen’s when he returns its nagging call.

He’s sure it’s begging, in need of some food or water, or just some attention. But he’s not about to be the one to help. Surely it belongs to someone else; that growing white hair, so long and flaring out in all directions, is pure milk in color. There’s not an ounce of dirt on it, so he doesn’t think it’s a street cat, left to its own devices all day and night. Some grey hair is coming in, patches darkening every week or so; Jensen tells himself it doesn’t mean anything that he’s noticed.

He’s just a details kind of guy, has to be as a bike messenger. He has most of the city’s streets mapped out in his brain and is tested daily when handed a dozen packages to deliver to all sorts of places.

It just so happens that the facts perfectly filed in his brain are now joined by the vision of this cat that won’t leave him alone.

* * *

_Meow_ , it declares, announcing itself one Thursday evening.

Jensen had a few late deliveries from a 24-hour print shop, so he’s road weary and bone tired. There isn’t enough energy to argue when the cat steps up as Jensen gets off his bike to climb his stairs. He can’t find the drive to get out of its way when it rubs against his ankle.

 _Meow_. This time it’s softer, lower pitched like a thoughtful hello. As if the cat knows it’s a bad time to be insistent. As if it can read his bad mood and thinks its gentle head butt can soothe the internal wounds dragging Jensen down.

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees, tired and quiet, as he enters the building. “Meow.”

Even as it continues growing, bulking up and stretching out, it manages to slip through the thin opening before Jensen can even think about it.

“No!” he yells, and continues on with a loud run of, “No, no, no, no.”

It winds between his legs, tail curling around his calf, and meows again. This time, it’s a long, warm sound that makes Jensen freeze in place.

Even when he can’t manage to move his feet, for fear of stepping on its tail or the whole cat itself, he reprimands it. “Get out of here! You don’t belong here.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” comes from the side, and Jensen spins in place towards the voice.

His bike smacks against the mailboxes and the handlebars swing around with the brake handle smacking him in the eye.

“You wanna try that again?” the voice asks.

Jensen finally drops his bike in a loud clatter as the wheels and handle bars are still spinning around. He comes face to face with a woman, thin and tan with long wavy red hair all around her shoulders.

She’s got her hands on her waist and eyes narrowed at him, assessing. Accusing. _Mad_.

“I … I mean …”

“You mean what?” she asks, voice still hard and insulted. Her face mirrors the sound as she takes him in from head to toe in judgment.

“I was talking to …” Jensen trails off as he looks around for the cat, but it's nowhere in sight. “Of course,” he sighs.

“Of course,” she mocks as she moves towards him. “Of course, what?”

“Stupid thing that – ”

“ _Stupid_?”

“No, not like that,” Jensen insists, but his energy is quickly draining. He didn’t have much to start with when he wrapped up his long day and now having to face this woman – any woman, any person, really – and have a conversation, especially one where he has to defend himself, is not ideal. Not for any time of day, but right now is even worse.

“Then, like what?”

Jensen huffs and straightens his shoulders, feeling the pressure of fight overpowering flight for one surprising second. “You don’t have to be bitchy about this.”

Her eyes widen, and she leans in close. “Oh, so now I’m a _bitch_?”

“I didn’t say you’re a bitch,” he argues.

“You might as well have,” she fires back, stepping another foot forward.

The brief moment of power is gone and Jensen slinks back into himself. Giving up immediately, closing in, he rolls his eyes and picks up his bike on his way to the elevators.

“You’re the rude one!” she calls at him.

He closes his eyes once he’s inside the elevator and the doors are closed. The machine creaks to life and seems to crawl its way inch by inch, as it always has in this old building, but he’s thankful to be out of range of an impending argument. He mumbles to himself how some random blog post once convinced him that living in a city would be good for him. _Get yourself some neighbors. Make friends. It’s a great opportunity to learn how to socialize again_.

It’s not that he must learn how. And certainly not _again_. He just doesn’t want to.

Jensen rather prefers a life with minimal interaction and quiet evenings with TV marathons, his collection of craft beer, and social media to keep him company.

So, getting to know people in his building, especially ones who jump to conclusions with a cutting attitude, is pretty high on his list of dislikes. And that’s a pretty long list, if he’s honest with himself.

That damned cat had been on his list. _Is on the list_ , he reminds himself, but it’s a weak point because he hears a soft little _meow_ and discovers the damn thing followed him into the elevator, has been sitting patiently at his feet this whole time, and now prances alongside him into the hall and to his apartment door.

He’s adamant to not let it inside. He’ll just get a bowl of water and leave it in the hallway. Along with the cat. And that’ll be it. He doesn’t have anything to feed it, barely has much to feed himself with a grocery delivery coming tomorrow.

But just as adamant as Jensen is, the cat is far more persistent and pushes itself between his leg and the doorframe to race into his apartment. Before Jensen can put his bike down, the damned thing has jumped up onto his couch, circling twice, and plops down into a perfect circular blob of fur.

His bike hits the floor with a loud thump as he stares at the cat making itself comfortable in his space, on his couch, and, of course, right on the left cushion where Jensen has spent a year carving out a perfectly good butt-shaped dent.

“You’re really gonna do this, huh?”

Seconds tick by and Jensen wonders which of them he’s asking. No matter who is answering, he thinks he knows the answer is _yes_.

* * *

Jensen lets the cat stay.

Though, _lets_ may not be the right word, because even when he leaves his door open a few inches, the cat stays right at his side while he catches up on his DVRed shows. It doesn’t matter if he walks around the apartment in an effort to make it follow him or even when it finally does, and he marches right to the front door, the damn thing stops short of actually walking into the hallway. Instead, it stops on a dime, perfectly perched to stand regal and tall and look up at Jensen as if it has no clue why he’s being so weird.

Right, because Jensen’s the weird one here.

Pointedly ignoring that it could mean something, Jensen fills a bowl of water and leaves it on the floor by the kitchen table. After a grumbling moment of compliance, he adds a small plate of remnants of last night’s chicken.

So, the cat refuses to leave. Refuses to leave Jensen’s side once he’s getting ready for bed, prancing right alongside him to the bathroom, standing next to him while he brushes his teeth, and following him right into the bedroom. It stays at the side of his bed when he gets in under the covers and Jensen is thankful for a bit of respite from his new shadow.

As he settles into bed, pulling the comforter up over his shoulder and curling into himself, he can feel his body relax from the tension he’d been carrying all day. Through a number of last-minute pick ups and drop offs, demanding and petty people on either end of the delivery, and the run-in with the woman in the lobby, everything had tensed up, muscles pulled taut and angry.

Finally, with sweet relief, it all unravels, and he feels himself slowly sinking into the mattress as his muscles ease and his mind drifts off into warm sleep.

That is when there’s a shocking _thump_ and he opens his eyes to the dark. There’s a faint sight of a white blob on his nightstand that suddenly comes at him, ultimately landing right on his side. Now the cat pokes at him, harsh and heavy with all that feline heft carried on four legs. Before Jensen can move or yell, the thing has squatted down into the curve of his waist and he tries not to think about how it’s possibly a little comforting to feel the warm weight settling on him.

* * *

Thankfully, that night is an anomaly.

Hopefully.

He thinks.

Jensen wakes with white fur in his face. Literally. The thing is curled up at the edge of his pillow, turned into a circle with its spine right at Jensen’s nose.

He steadily breathes in and out as he gets his wits about him, dragging himself fully out of sleep as the alarm on his phone rings out. The cat doesn’t move until Jensen turns over to grab his phone and stop the alarm, and when he looks over his shoulder, the cat’s lifted its head to look back at him. It may be glaring at him for breaking its beauty sleep.

Jensen thinks, _how’d you sleep?_ with a bit of attitude for the intruding guest, but doesn’t say it aloud. 

He does laugh, though. Mostly at himself as he shakes his head and gets on with his day.

* * *

The cat doesn’t appear for three days. It’s been pouring and thundering on and off with nasty storms hovering over the city. For all that Jensen thought it was hell to bike through all the rain, he starts to wonder where the cat hides away, where it can stay warm and dry on the streets.

He had assumed all along that the cat had a home. It’s always far cleaner than he’d expect for a street cat, but given its constant presence and casual ease to follow him home and spend the night … well, it can’t be that complicated to figure out that the thing possibly doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

It’s especially sad when Jensen pedals home with 20 mile per hour winds and sideways rain cutting into his face. It’s torture being soaked to the bone out here in this cold, wet weather, but he imagines it must be even worse for the poor homeless animals out there.

At a stoplight, Jensen stares at the rain cascading over street lamps at sharp angles. He thinks about how water coming this fast and this hard will get anywhere and everywhere, and no one can escape it without being indoors.

He’ll be indoors soon. He has an apartment that’s warm and dry, with fresh clothes, a hot shower, and blankets to keep him comfortable all night. The cat probably doesn’t.

He also thinks about how he never cared much for another person, let alone a random animal, for quite a few years. And now he’s got all sorts of thoughts brewing.

Jensen knows he has no responsibility to this stray that somehow has attached itself to him. He doesn’t owe it anything or need to intervene in its life on the streets. 

But …

He figures there are few things crueler than leaving a poor defenseless animal on the streets, so when he reaches the stairs up to his building, he stops and waits. It’s still pouring, won’t let up, hasn’t for hours, and all that water is just sliding right over him. He’s already wet down to his skin, so it doesn’t seem any worse than his bike ride home.

Holding steady in place, Jensen waits for the cat to appear. As if it would just sense him … Jensen grumbles to himself about being stupid to assume that. Surely, the cat shows up when it hears him coming, maybe it’s gotten used to the whistle of his bike coming to a stop or the pedaling or some other thing that it won’t hear now that the rain pounds on pavement and thunder cracks overhead.

He gets off his bike and rests it on the kickstand to the side of the stairs, then walks to the other side where the cat always comes out. There’s a short, rust colored awning for the garden apartment facing the sidewalk and water falls off it in sheets down to the muddied grass. Then he sees there on a few thin bricks along the building, barely out of the way of the rain, the cat is huddled up against the window.

Sweet relief floods Jensen’s system and he moves a little quicker than he’d imagined when playing out this moment, slipping in dark mud and spooking the poor cat to push itself up against the windows and away from him. Carefully, Jensen reaches a hand out, palm up and open for it to smell even as it shivers with wet, matted hair making it appear half its size in these conditions.

“Hey, bud,” he offers then admonishes himself for being so ridiculous with simple greetings. But he tries again, crouching down in front of the cat and bringing his hand lower to the ground, right under its chin so he’s not so threatening and hovering over it.

“You remember me?” Jensen offers. “I’m the one you follow around.”

The cat shivers, remaining silent with wide, scared eyes.

“You stayed over the other night,” he reminds it, bringing his voice even softer and lower.

The cat cowers from the waterfall now puddling in the mud and spitting dark water all around them.

He moves in a little closer then bumps his head on the awning, disrupting his ballcap, and he wonders if the darkness all around them with the addition of his hat shielding his face is making the cat even more scared in an already terrible situation. So, he turns the brim of his hat to the back then offers a wide-eyed look as he tries to get the cat’s attention again.

“C’mon, bud. I know you know who I am.” He chuckles a little out of nervousness, anxiety starting to rattle him when he thinks about anyone coming upon him huddled in front of this apartment window on a dark rainy night. He knows it looks far more devious than trying to rescue an innocent, rain-soaked, lonely kitten

Maybe even the people who live in that apartment will call the police on him and how will he explain all he’s doing is trying to save a cat? He can’t believe he’s doing this; how would he convince others? Why should he even do this?

He takes a deep breath and steadies himself to focus on the kitten instead. “You slept on me,” Jensen says, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. He still feels foolish out here, putting so much effort into a random stray, especially when it’s this cold and wet. “You also slept on my pillow,” he adds. “And you even scratched up the edge of my couch, but I wasn’t gonna complain.”

The cat stays still enough that Jensen thinks he just may be getting through to it. The thing could’ve run as soon as Jensen approached, but it’s likely frozen scared at this point. Or just damn frozen with its hair flat and dripping in the cold.

Jensen gets close enough to set a fingertip under its chin. He goes for broke and tries a soft, “Meow?” to get through.

It takes a few more times before the cat finally opens its mouth and meows right back.

Foolish laughter bubbles up, maybe even a few hot tears as Jensen feels the cat nudge against his finger, just a tiny little brush like it’s testing things out. Then it meows again, louder, and rubs its nose against Jensen’s finger all the way down to its cheek. Jensen flattens his hand to let it push against him a few times, then he’s smiling when the cat opens up its body and steps forward to really get into rubbing against the palm of his hand.

“There you go, bud.” Jensen touches along its neck with his other hand and thinks about microchips and their connected databases, wonders if this cat really does belong somewhere, but just hasn’t been found yet.

Tomorrow, he tells himself. He’ll look into that tomorrow, but for now, he’s going to pick this soaking pile of hair up into the curve of his arm and get it inside. It’ll take a few towels to dry off, for the both of them, but it gives him something new to focus on tonight.

* * *

It settles on his side when he finally gets to bed, and just like that other night, he wakes up with it on his pillow right next to his face.

It’s not so disruptive this time, and Jensen thinks maybe that’s just because it’s happened before. Or maybe because he knows the kitten had a rough night before he found it and he’ll give it a break today.

Except when the cat follows Jensen everywhere, even as he tells it not to.

Like when he pours himself another cup of coffee. “You don’t have to come into the kitchen just because I do.”

 _Meow_.

And when he makes another trip bathroom. “You don’t have to follow me to watch me piss … _Again_.”

 _Meowwww_.

“Okay, fine,” he says with a sigh. As if he must give in to a cat. As if he couldn’t just keep the door closed and live with the cat pawing at the door, scratching and pulling at the underside of it.

He does just that and of course, when he opens the door, the cat just looks up at him and meows. It just stands there at the doorjamb, looking all pleasant and content to be right here for as long as Jensen is in sight.

When he settles at the kitchen table for breakfast, the cat jumps up onto the chair next to Jensen and watches him eat. After a few minutes, the cat rubs its face against Jensen’s knee, leaving a trail of white hair behind. Jensen immediately scoots back to stop the cat, then grabs a towel to wipe it all away. It doesn’t help … at all; if anything, it seems like hair is now pressed even deeper into his jeans, thin white hairs threaded through his dark denim. When the cat tries to do it again, Jensen meets it in the middle and pets it, pushing his hand over its head … and wincing at the rain of white hair that floats through the air and gently falls to the ground every time he touches it.

There’s got to be so much hair here already, even from its short stay, and he’s not looking forward to cleaning it all up.

Jensen walks the cat out and it easily comes with. Maybe it’s just following Jensen, like it has all morning long. In fact, it keeps up with Jensen on his bike for the first block, but when Jensen speeds up his pedaling to cross the street, it finally stops.

He is oddly worried that the cat stays behind at the crosswalk, even when there is no traffic at that time. He slows down and keeps looking over his shoulder to see the cat sitting at that same corner, shrinking in his sights the farther he gets from it.

* * *

When he gets home that night, the kitten is waiting for him, feet quickly, excitedly patting at the sidewalk as he gets off his bike. Once he’s up the stairs, it races up behind him then squeezes between the door and his ankle to enter the building.

He half-heartedly tries to stop it, even attempts to shoo it back outside, but the kitten is swift to move out of his reach. Twisting around his legs, the thing just keeps happily meowing and rubbing against him then slipping out of his reach.

Jensen stands up and sighs, blinks at the ceiling a few times, and thinks, _okay fine, I guess we’re doing this_. There’s no more fight to him when they both walk into the elevator, for the long and creaky ride up to his floor and the kitten sits at his side and looks up at him with shiny green eyes, or even on the quick steps to his apartment door.

“You’re gonna need food, huh?” he asks it while unlocking his door.

 _Meow_.

“I don’t even know what kinds of stuff you eat.”

 _Meowww_.

Jensen stalls on a thought. He looks down at the kitten with a frown. “What did you eat on the streets?” He shivers at the images of dead birds or mice, and he hopes it hasn’t been that bad for the poor thing.

Once inside, the cat races to the couch and leaps up to Jensen’s spot, twirling in place before settling in a happy little ring of fur and limbs. Jensen shoves at the bike’s kickstand with his foot, glaring at the cat for stealing his seat, but he sighs before the annoyance lasts too long.

“I guess I gotta go to the store to get you stuff?”

The kitten drops its head to its front paws, watching him, otherwise seeming unphased with the current circumstances.

Jensen, on the other hand, is not looking forward to a long shopping trip and surely having to make all sorts of new decisions will not be an easy feat.

Especially on an empty stomach.

Jensen walks to the couch and watches it stare up at him. “Alright, first dinner then the store.”

 _Meow_.

“That sound good to you?”

The kitten twists onto its back and stretches out, its pure white fluffy belly on display. _Meow_

“Is that a yes or a no?”

Its front paws bend down as it stares at him, letting out a tiny, hopeful, _Meow_.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes?” After a moment, he shakes his head. “Why the hell am I talking to you? You don’t know what I’m saying.”

It spins over to its stomach and looks at him, paws pressing against the cushion and nails digging into the fabric.

Jensen regrets even the split-second moment of warming up to the sweetness of the kitten in this moment, so he shoves it away with a grumbling, “Whatever, I’m making myself a sandwich now.”

 _Meow_.

* * *

The cart is filling up rather quickly and Jensen’s heart races as he thinks about having to carry all of this on his bike. He has a basket on the back for some of his bigger messenger deliveries but there’s no way he’ll stay upright with this many cans of wet food, a litter box, the whole container of litter, a big bag of hard food, and now … a cat bed?

The clerk, a tall and thin kid who is maybe just barely of legal age, name tag _Scott_ , is happily showing off the wide array of options. He is also giving Jensen very obvious glances and asking all sorts of questions about this new pet and even his home and roommates (wink, wink), all in the name of quality customer service. 

Jensen has other, daunting feelings brewing at the way the clerk continues picking at the situation.

“So, it’s just you and the cat then?” Scott asks, and Jensen tenses up.

“Uh, yeah. This is all new to me.”

There’s a flighty chuckle and he nudges Jensen’s arm. “Sometimes pets can be really good company. If that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I’m really just looking for stuff for the cat,” Jensen replies, staring at the shelf right in front of him, all packed with thin cat beds that might as well just be a towel. “Do cats actually like these things?

“I think these are really great,” he shifts, now reaching for bigger, heftier beds on the top shelf. “Cats tend to like being burrowed in, so the high walls help them feel contained.”

That makes sense, sure, but the bed in Scott’s hand boasts it generates warmth to soothe the animal with fancy branding and stitching to the tune of $70. Now Jensen thinks the kid’s just fucking with him, just trying to get a better commission, because the expansive display in front of them is full of a whole collection of cat beds of all sizes and shapes and thicknesses, and varieties of fabrics like corduroy or fuzzy fleece. Not to mention all the colors, which must be the real racket because he thought he once heard cats are color blind anyway …

He’s not sure how much he wants to spoil this cat when its only lived with him for a few days now. Plus, this is the first night he’s really giving into this whole charade, and who knows how long the kitten will actually stick around or at what point it’ll be far too much for Jensen to handle – like this shopping trip isn’t enough of a debacle?

“How about this one?” Scott offers. “It’s a big hit with some guys.” 

A pink, fluffy monstrosity with feathers all around the edges is pushed into his hands. The kid seems proud of himself and goes the extra mile to wink.

Jensen thinks about throwing it on the ground, just to get it away from him as quickly as possible. Not just the color – though it’s certainly not his favorite – but the intention behind it, how the clerk seems to use it as a prompt for Jensen’s reply. Which Jensen doesn’t want to make, doesn’t even want to consider it. He came here to shop, not get hit on … especially not when the kid won’t take the hint when Jensen isn’t all that responsive anyway.

He thinks about leaving the cart right here in this aisle and marching right out the door. He’d have to find another store and start over on this shopping expedition … but then there’s a tendril swirling around that tells him to just hold in the absurdity of the whole situation and politely work his way out of it.

Slowly, Jensen puts the bed back into Scott’s hands. “The cat really needs its own bed?” he asks, suspicion obvious in his voice.

“Well, need is a very loose word here,” the kid grins. “But this one is a new version and has been doing really well.”

Of course, it has. It’s one of the largest, plushest, and most expensive ones on the shelf.

Jensen thinks he may need to take out a loan just to pay for all these accessories. For now, he says no to the cat bed, but files it away to check out later. Maybe when he doesn’t have to carry all these things back home. Or something more affordable online.

It’s a whole event at the cashier to go through every single item, and he starts sweating at the tired looks of customers behind him who have just one or two things apiece. But no, they have to survive the torturous length of time for each can and every little furry toy to be scanned by the bored cashier popping gum in the corner of her mouth.

As the bags pile up at the end of the counter, Scott reappears and offers to help. Again, with a wink and a grin.

Jensen sucks in a quick breath and looks away. He has no interest in dealing with this kind of attention, especially when the kid suggests it’s a lot to take on the bike.

“I could help you take it home?” Now the kid’s eyes tilt downward, almost demurely, before he glances back up carefully, lips pursed in a nervous smile. “I’m off in ten minutes and then could come with you and help set it all up.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I would love to help you out. All in the name of good customer service.”

Fumbling with an answer, something that’s not harsh or insulting, Jensen makes sure not to look at Scott as he grabs the rest of the bags. “I guess just help out to my bike then I’ll figure it out.”

“I really don’t mind!”

 _Well, I do_ , Jensen thinks.

“It could be fun,” he prods with another elbow to Jensen’s side as they walk outside. “The two of us, working together, getting your home all set. And I could meet your little one.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jensen snaps. Immediately, Jensen frowns, mostly at himself because he’d tried to shake it off, but the kid is persistent. Must be all that good customer service.

Scott looks at Jensen with narrowed eyes, licking his lip in thought before he finally asks, “You’re not into guys, are you?”

Jensen stops in place and stares at the kid. Not because it’s offensive, but because it’s alarming to have someone be so forward with him. He has never reacted well to pushy personalities, well intentioned or not. Jensen can thank his parents for that. But he also thanks himself for staying so insulated in his own world to not have to deal with it. He’s already talked more during what he had hoped would be a simple errand than he has all day at work.

“Excuse me?” Jensen finally asks.

Scott shrugs, pushing a bit of bravado, seemingly he’s proud to be challenging Jensen about this. “I mean, if that’s all it is, then that’s cool. You can just say so.”

The thing is, Jensen absolutely is into guys and has known that since puberty. There is no way, however, that he is about to defend himself for all of this. Let alone tell him that it’s more about Jensen not being interested … right now, in this situation, or with a kid who is likely a decade or more younger.

An older man – older than the clerk – slides arounds them to the carts and watches the standoff Jensen is currently stuck in. There’s an easy smile there, but Jensen can see how those eyes keep glancing back at them to see what’s going on.

A new thread of tension works its way up Jensen’s neck, to be watched, under scrutiny, when all he wanted to do was pick up a few supplies for a cat that he can’t seem to get rid of.

Never mind that maybe he doesn’t want to get rid of it; he’s got enough to worry about right now.

“But if you are into guys, well then …”

Scott just won’t fucking read the room, and now that other patron is taking his sweet ass time to get a cart out from the others, all while smirking at Jensen and the kid. And damn, Jensen suddenly finds himself staring at that guy because he is … well he’s more Jensen’s style. Tall, broad shouldered, warm smile, even if it’s tilted in mischief, and dark hair messy with one side tucked behind his ears.

Not like anything would come from meeting someone outside a pet store, but Jensen is suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment that this extremely attractive guy is watching Jensen get hit on by some college kid, and Jensen is completely unable to say anything, frozen in place.

All of this swirls around Jensen’s mind and he nearly feels dizzy with the worry of how exactly to respond right now. To either of these guys, really. There’s a reason he doesn’t have relationships, of any kind, and stays far away from the possibility. The necessary pressure and social mores of it all puts him off kilter, makes him vulnerable, and it’s bad enough he’s taking in the kitten and has to put himself to the task of this shopping trip and cat-ifying his home, disrupting the simple routine he’s constructed for himself, but now he’s facing all of _this_.

Jensen looks between Scott and the guy, who has now stalled next to the carts with his phone out and jeez, maybe he’s recording all this to post online. Like Jensen isn’t already mortified enough, the anxiety ratchets up as he realizes he’s stayed silent for far too long after the kid’s last words.

“Well, I guess that’s my answer,” Scott finally says as he sets the bags down at Jensen’s feet.

“Thanks ... for the help,” Jensen manages to say, rather pathetically, even as his heart races faster under the duress of this strained interaction.

“Yeah, of course. Have a good night.” It’s all said nicely enough, but the kid’s quick return to the store says otherwise and Jensen sighs, to himself, at Scott, at the pile of bags all around him.

Then that other guy looks up from his phone with that same sideways smile in place and sparkling eyes, and shit, Jensen needs to run out of here immediately.

Shifting gears, Jensen decides to focus on loading up his bike and doing his best to get everything balanced.

“He really gave it his best shot, huh?” the guy asks.

Jensen looks at him, eyes wild and breath caught. He’d already suffered through an unwanted conversation with the clerk and now this guy is going to force him into another. So, he tries to shut it down with a short, “Yeah,” as he gets on his bike.

The guy is unphased, blinking for a moment before motioning at Jensen’s haul. “Got a new cat?”

“Yeah,” he replies and then they both seem stuck in place, unmoving, and watching each other. Jensen narrows his eyes with more nerves flaring. “Why?”

Stepping closer, the guy taps the litter container. “I know they advertise how great lightweight litter is, but I’d be careful. It doesn’t clump the same.”

“Okay,” he says, maybe asks, because he’s unsure why this guy is giving him this particular piece of advice.

“So, when you scoop, it all falls apart, which makes a mess.” He smiles and shrugs. “But the biggest problem is the cats don’t like it, so they tend to ignore the box.”

Jensen blinks a few times as he thinks over that, wonders if he should run back inside to exchange it. He glances at the store and thinks about the clerk, goes frantic with the prospect of having to deal with him again, and quickly shuts down that idea. “Okay, alright,” he acknowledges with a short nod. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Of course,” the guy says, a bit joyfully. “Is it your first cat?”

“Yeah.” Jensen tries not to frown or seem uneasy with the questions, even when he kind of is.

“I’m Jared,” he says boldly, putting his hand out to shake, and Jensen is completely unsure what is happening in this moment.

Why on earth is this guy hanging around to talk to him, why is he offering suggestions and presenting himself like they should – or need – to know one another.

The man is incredibly good looking and Jensen tries to not look him in the face, only to be drawn right back into admiring how handsome he is. Maybe this is some sort of joke or prank TV show, and Jensen glances around them for a camera until he realizes they’re still shaking hands so he pulls enough wits together to attempt a simple smile and nod. “Jensen.”

“Nice to meet you,” he beams.

“Is it obvious?” Jensen suddenly blurts. “That it’s a new cat?”

A loud, lively laugh is the answer and Jensen can’t look at the guy when there’s a blinding smile aimed right at him, so he fiddles with his handlebars and watches his fingers curl around the grips.

Is this flirting?

Is the guy intending to be cute and kind here, even after watching Jensen crash and burn when staring down the young clerk just minutes ago?

That gets Jensen’s heart racing even faster, his palms sweating against the handlebars, and he’s sure he can’t control his smile. He does his best to put on a friendly kind of look, but he’s not used to doing that. He’s not used to looking at someone this handsome and friendly under ordinary circumstances.

Sure, he sees insanely attractive people on his deliveries, but he never has to talk to them.

He’s never wanted to. Not before this moment …

“At the very least, buying a new litter box is a sign,” Jared points out. “Along with all that food.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Jensen complains, maybe more to himself than anyone. He glances back at the bags piled on top of each other and curses himself for getting swept up in everything the clerk had suggested.

“If anything, it gives you the chance to figure out which food they like best.” Jared sets his hand on his cart and crosses his legs, all easy and free, and wow, Jensen is suddenly checking him out from his feet up to his waist, admiring the tall, thin lines of his legs and hips, finally focusing on his face when he speaks again. “What’s its name?”

Jensen gulps. It most certainly should have a name, but … “I haven’t thought much on that yet.”

“Is it male or female?”

Jensen hadn’t thought about that, either. “Not sure,” he admits, adding, “But I think it’s a boy?” He just kind of has a feeling about that, yet he feels foolish to admit that. He switches gears and decides to invest more time in this guy, so he asks about his own trip to the store. “What about you? Cat or dog guy?”

“Dogs, mostly,” Jared grins. “I’ve got a big lug back at home. But cats are awfully fun, too.”

With a little smirk, Jensen nods like he totally gets it. Even when he doesn’t, because he hasn’t quite found _fun_ with the cat yet. But he’ll listen to Jared talk about any kind of animal he wants, so long as the guy keeps smiling at him in a way that makes Jensen actually want to talk, to listen, and put off getting home right now.

It really has been years since Jensen returned any sort of invitation like this, to chat loose and easy, and share smiles that maybe say something a little more than a simple pleasant hello.

Jensen’s mind races on to think that maybe this kitten has been a well-intentioned plan from some kind of entity out there. Like, maybe he had to take it in and come to this store so he could meet Jared. And maybe something could really come from this if they just keep talking, and Jared surely seems geared up to continue chatting as he taps the middle of Jensen’s handlebars and gets a shy kind of smile on his face.

A tiny corner of Jensen’s mind asks if he’s gone fucking crazy because all these thoughts are completely foreign to him, and yet … he just wants to keep looking at this lovely face look right back at him.

“Do you have a vet?”

That stops Jensen in place. For all that he’s already done in this shopping trip, he hadn’t thought far enough down the road to consider any kind of health care for the cat.

A moment later, the guy pulls his wallet from his pocket, tugs something out, and hands over a business card. “Not to seem too forward, but in case you need one.”

Jensen feels his face fall, along with any hope settling in his chest, because apparently Jared had been playing this whole conversation to get to here. All so Jensen, brand new pet owner, could patronize his animal clinic.

Right.

Of course.

That’s all it is.

After a quick sigh, Jensen forces his face to something more amenable, less disappointed and frustrated. Flat and unnerved, because he convinces himself he should feel exactly that way. “I’ll look into it.”

Jared taps the handle again and now he glances away with that same smile in place. “Sounds good. Hope to see you there.”

Jensen thinks _yeah, sure_ , but remains quiet as he watches Jared wave goodbye and head into the store with his cart rattling all the way. Once Jared’s out of sight, Jensen lets his head drop and eyes close as he berates himself for allowing even the barest of excitement or hope to bubble to the surface with such a short interaction.

He’s better off just keeping his focus on himself. And the cat, which is plenty to occupy his time now.

With that decided, Jensen rechecks the haul on the back of his bike then trudges back home with everything weighing him down … literally and figuratively.

* * *

At his building, he has to take a few trips up the front stairs to get everything into the lobby. His bike is the last thing to make it inside and then he’s struggling to get it all to the elevator and wait for the thing to crawl back down to the main floor.

That’s when she walks out … that woman from before. The only person in this building he’s ever talked to beyond a quick, muttered _hey_ , and he thinks there’s some kind of curse on him that he has to face her when he’s once again exhausted and edgy at the end of the day, all thanks to his experience at the pet store.

“Oh, great,” he sighs as she steps out and tries to bypass his mess of things.

She gives him a look, but doesn’t otherwise respond to what he’s said. She surveys all the bags and then lifts an eyebrow as she shifts around the bags. “You got a cat?”

“Yeah, kinda looks like it.” He’s now fussing to shuffle his things into the elevator, trying to get his bike to lean against the doors to keep them from shutting on him, so he doesn’t immediately realize she’s still standing there.

“You need help?” she asks, but the tightness of her question sounds like she’s not that interested in doing so.

It also reminds him of the insistent clerk at the store and he roughly sighs. “No, I don’t need help. I’ve got it.”

“Yeah, it sure looks like it.”

Jensen nearly tosses the last few bags into the elevator then stands up straight to glare at her. His mind runs on with him ranting at her how it’s been _quite a day_ and he’d rather not deal with her attitude right now and maybe she could stop having such a problem with him when they don’t even know each other and then he could just go home and finally sit down and relax without all this stress building up around him.

He says none of these things, but he’s riled up all the same.

“What kind?”

Her simple question makes him pause in all his internal shouting. “What?”

She tilts her head and crosses her arms, but there’s something softer in her gaze when she clarifies, “What kind of cat did you get?”

Jensen all but falls back against the side of the elevator doors, allowing himself to relax for a moment. Even if he’s not interested in talking much more tonight, there’s relief in seeing, and hearing, her ease up on him. “I don’t know. It’s white.”

“That white one that hangs out in the front of the building?”

He’s leery to know where she’s going with that … like maybe she’s disgusted he’s bringing in stray cats or maybe there’s something very specifically wrong with _that one_.

The elevator starts up its angry buzzing after the doors have been open for too long. He’s grateful for the distraction and ignores the fact he hasn’t answered her. Instead, he mumbles, “Gotta go,” and moves further into the elevator so the doors close, the buzzing stops, and he can be left in beautiful silence all alone.

Thankfully, the silence remains for the rest of the night, aside from the easy company of the TV and the kitten’s gentle meows, and it helps him relax. He sinks into the couch – in _his spot_ – while the cat practically buries its face in a plate of wet food. The stuff doesn’t look, or smell, appetizing in the least. It’s a dark beef pate, just one of five different kinds of cans he picked out, and he makes a note in his phone of the exact brand and flavor to buy next time.

He is reminded of the clerk telling him that each cat will have its own preferences and Jensen will have to try out a few. The kid also warned against seafood until the kitten is a year old … and Jensen thinks there will be a lot of things to learn and keep track of that he’s never had to worry about before. But that concern only stays with him for another minute or two before the kitten is all done with dinner and marches across the room to join Jensen on the couch, curling up at his side.

There’s a soft rumble against Jensen’s thigh as the cat purrs with every touch Jensen grants it, even when he’s careful and slow to avoid spreading too much hair.

About half an hour later, Jensen realizes he’s got his fingers buried in the kitten’s long, fluffy hair, and the fuss of his trip to the store and human interactions have nearly dissipated with the comfort of this new kitten. So maybe the day isn’t so bad after all.

* * *

Jensen finds that the next few days aren’t so bad either. They settle into a routine of the kitten following him outside in the morning and coming back inside at night to spend the evening.

There is lots of cuddling, with the cat settling down at his side on the couch – when it doesn’t steal his spot first – and sometimes it even curls up in his lap. Even when he tries to move it away, because hair … There is so much hair everywhere as it is and he doesn’t need his clothes littered with white fur all day, everyday.

It sleeps with him, always climbing up on his side, burrowing down into the curve of his hip when he first gets into bed. On some mornings, it wakes Jensen up by walking all over him and as more days pass, he swears he can feel the growing bulk of the kitten on each leg with a hard poke of weight on one paw pressed right into his breast bone or on his ribs as it wanders all over him.

Two weeks later, he’s invested in lint rollers. So many lint rollers that are used every morning before he leaves for work, though he still finds more stray hairs throughout the day. He’s becoming more and more diligent, and maybe even a little annoyed, when he’s out on delivery runs or waiting on receptionists to accept packages and he’s plucking hairs off his clothes while they look at him weird. At one point, he tries to explain, _I just got a new cat_ , but they’re not paying any attention to him once they have their package and Jensen sighs to himself for even bothering to open his mouth about the whole ordeal.

And he feels like he’s constantly vacuuming. Constantly going over the floors, couch, into every corner of every room to get all the fur. About a month in, he buys a pet hair vacuum off Amazon, but it doesn’t seem to keep up with the amount of hair the cat can shed in 24 hours … or even in the mere 12 hours it’s home with him. The hair situation is utterly ridiculous and he’s growing tired of it all until he finally gives up and just decides to live with the hair.

So, it’s all rather routine at this point and he thinks that beyond the trouble of keeping up with buying cat food, scooping litter, and the constant vacuuming, maybe it’s worth it when he comes home at night and the kitten fits in right alongside him. Its soft purring and playful runs around the apartment with a new laser toy bring out more smiles than he can remember having before.


	2. Chapter 2

Life as a delivery messenger puts him in front of all sorts of people, but he never has to talk to any of them. Not really. Ninety-nine percent of the time, customers just want their packages and all he has to do is read off the intended recipient and ask for a signature, then he’s on his way to the next stop. There is never any reason for conversation beyond that, and he rather enjoys it that way.

Office buildings are always bustling, offices noisy, security and administrative staff chatty at times, but he doesn’t have to invest any energy beyond the drop-off and getting the John Hancock. He gets to witness life in motion, but never has to participate.

It’s perfect.

And the cat may have disrupted his life, wedging himself into the general routine that keeps Jensen living stress free and relaxed, but there’s a new comfort in having someone waiting for him when he gets home from work. Or even if Jensen is gone for a few hours running his own errands, maybe even to the movies, the cat is there with his incessant meows, begging to know where in the hell Jensen has been. As if he’s gone off to war, left without a goodbye, and it’s been terrified to receive word from the government of Jensen’s demise.

“Hey, bud,” Jensen says when it approaches him as he rolls to a stop in front of his building.

The kitten, growing by the day and now about the size of a small adult cat, winds itself all around Jensen’s ankles with a drawn-out, insistent _meowwww_.

“Yeah, I know, bud,” he acknowledges with a few head rubs.

Jensen finds himself smiling at the kitten pushing itself into his hand and he thinks that he’s getting used to all this and maybe it should finally have a name. All he ever says is _bud_ in lieu of any better ideas coming to mind.

“You like that?” Jensen continues petting along its cheek, warming up the more and more it head butts him for more attention.

Even out on the street with the noises of chirping birds and cars coming up and down the road, the purring is loud enough to be heard, constant and hard enough to be felt against his fingers, and Jensen’s cheeks suddenly hurt from smiling so hard.

“Yeah, you really like that, bud?”

_Meowwww_. It stops moving against him, standing up straight on its hind legs to look up at Jensen. Waiting.

He chuckles. “I bet you’re hungry, huh? Waiting for me to open up one of those cans you like so much?”

_Meow_.

“Yeah, the chicken with cheese is your fave. I know it, bud.”

_Meowwwwwwwwwww_.

On the snail-pace elevator ride upstairs, Jensen looks at the cat and shrugs. “You like bud? Is that a weird name?”

It ruts up against his shin with a chirpy _meow_ , and Jensen supposes that’s as close to agreement as he’ll get.

“Alright, then we’ll go with Buddy. Don’t need you to be named after beer.” After a moment, he augments that with a roll of his eyes. “A cheap domestic one, at that.”

* * *

Just as every other week day, Jensen bikes down his block and sees Buddy standing in front of the building, waiting patiently as ever. The cat bounces on its paws when Jensen gets closer, then stretching up when Jensen leans down to pat its head. It butts up against Jensen’s palm, pushing harder for more pressure and meows when Jensen stands up straight to get off his bike and carry it up the stairs.

They walk in together, Buddy sliding in right along with Jensen before the door closes, and Jensen chuckles a little. “You have a good day?” Buddy rubs all along Jensen’s calf, nearly falling over with the power of his impact. “Get into any trouble, you dumbo?”

When Jensen looks up, he’s face to face with the red head. The one he keeps running into on his worst of days, who never gives him a break when he just doesn’t want to talk whatsoever and finds himself saying the wrong words. 

She’s holding envelopes and closing her mailbox while eyeing Jensen, critically considering him and then giving a passing glance to Buddy.

“Not you,” Jensen insists. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“I sure hope not,” she replies tightly.

“I was talking to the cat.”

She looks at the cat again then slowly brings her sights up to Jensen. “You’ve been letting all the strays into the building?”

“No!” he insists, the word loudly echoing in the small foyer. He clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I’m not letting all strays in. Just this one.” Her eyes narrow and he continues to explain. “He lives with me now. He’s kind of been my shadow for a while now so I decided to let him stay.”

She makes a noise, a kind of mad yet thoughtful sound, then tucks her mail under her arm and moves past him to leave. “Have you taken him to a vet yet?”

Jensen stumbles over that thought, suddenly worried that there is something wrong with Buddy that he can’t see. Something she can notice in just seconds. His mind also flashes back to the vet he met at the pet store … the incredibly gorgeous one he thought was flirting but really just handed over a business card. Fuck, now his mood drops with all these thoughts swirling together so he grumbles, “No, I didn’t really think – ”

“I can get you the number of a – ”

“I think we’re fine, thank you,” he says quickly, and maybe a little too forcefully. He wants to end this line of thinking _immediately_. “He’s been perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, perfectly fine living on the streets for some time and now you’re – ”

“And now I’m taking care of him.” He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t wait for her to reply, just walks right to the elevator. He’s more than a little annoyed when Buddy takes his time to look at the woman before finally running to catch up.

On the ride up to his floor, the whole conversation runs through his head. A few times, certain lines repeating over and over, and he’s feeling sharp and defensive. As if he can’t manage to watch over a cat that obviously rather enjoys being with him. A cat that follows him in and out of the building without question and happily eats the food and treats Jensen spent a considerable amount of time researching once he got his wits about him as to all the requirements of cat life.

He doesn’t need some stranger, one with a particular chip on her shoulder, to tell him what he’s doing.

_And now I’m taking care of him_ , he hears himself having said and that stalls him once he’s at his apartment door with keys in hand.

He didn’t expect any of this to happen to him. Didn’t anticipate bringing in a stray cat and racking up the hours of searching the internet for the best food, toys, litter, and cat beds to keep Buddy as happy as possible. He never in all his years ever thought he’d be in this position to care so much about what someone thinks about his role as caretaker.

He never imagined having to take care of someone other than himself.

It’s all so very confusing if he really thinks too much on it, to compare it to how he’s lived his life the last few years. Compared to the amount of time and energy he has always put into keeping himself together, keeping to himself to avoid confrontations like these with this woman.

He supposes that shifting his focus from tempering all of his emotions and anxieties into watching over Buddy has been a nice transfer of energy, really, and if that helps him get through the day with a little less stress weighing him down, then who is that lady to judge how he takes care of Buddy? He thinks he’s doing a rather fine job as is, and Buddy doesn’t seem to be complaining as he keeps rubbing against Jensen’s shin, winding in between Jensen’s feet, and finally stretching up to paw at Jensen’s thigh.

Jensen pats Buddy’s head with a small smile, appreciating how even the sudden wind up of emotions on the elevator is already dissipating when he looks at Buddy’s big green eyes and feels the silkiness of the fluffy hair under his fingers, white starting to mix in with new shades of grey.

So maybe Jensen isn’t the most emotional man in the world. And maybe it’s taken a long time to get to this point, to be patient and thoughtful for the cat. And maybe he could be doing more – oh how that scares him, though, if he thinks on it too long – but they both seem fairly happy, sharing each other’s burdens and lightening the load.

Yeah, he’s taking care of Buddy, and Buddy kind of takes care of Jensen in his own way. He thinks they’re both doing pretty okay with the arrangement.

Especially when Jensen is settling down in front of the TV with a beer in one hand and Buddy’s head resting against the other, softly purring with every touch even when Jensen’s starting to focus in on his shows. The rest of the night goes on like this, the only real differences come in Jensen getting another beer or Buddy shifting around to find more comfortable positions, but never straying away from Jensen’s reach.

Buddy is a large pile of furry cat at Jensen’s side, and Jensen finds himself smiling for the first time since he left for work early that morning.

* * *

Cleaning up one Saturday, Jensen unearths a business card. _That_ business card, and he’s immediately transported to the nightmare pet store visit with the stubborn clerk. But that’s not what really stick hard in his mind; it’s Jared, the gorgeous guy he talked to after. The one Jensen thought there was some kind of connection forming with until the card made its appearance and Jensen realized it was all a rouse for some sly advertising of the animal clinic.

Jensen reads the card again and again, turns it over and fights a smirk at the cartoonish drawing of a cat and dog nudging noses.

It’s been weeks since Buddy became part of Jensen’s life, burrowing into his home and maybe his heart, and Jensen still hasn’t drummed up the courage to get him checked for a microchip. At this point, there’s worry built up that Jensen will indeed find out who Buddy really belongs to and will have to part with him.

He supposes it’s better now than later, because if they continue to grow together and then Jensen suddenly finds out Buddy isn’t rightfully his … well, things would crash and burn with far more gusto than it will now.

Still, that means facing Jared. The handsome vet. Who Jensen mistook for flirting. Who will probably not even remember Jensen, anyway. Hopefully.

So, maybe there’s no reason to worry.

Jensen’s mind rattles on anyway with that conversation replaying itself, inflections and motions amplified in ways Jensen frets over. Maybe Jared’s little tap at the bike was just to get his attention, because Jensen knows he was trailing off in thought far too much for average conversation. Or maybe Jensen’s voice was strained and uptight, like he felt for the whole shopping trip, and Jared will not even think of Jensen’s showing up at the clinic as anything other than good business. Another business card doing its job.

Buddy comes trailing into the kitchen, looking up at Jensen and meowing. His insistent tail flitting back and forth and the repeated meows forces Jensen to check the time and realize he owes Buddy his wet food.

The business card is put back on the counter, but Jensen makes sure it’s in a space that’s wide open, so he’ll see it whenever he passes through the room. Just in case he actually finds the nerve to make an appointment.

* * *

It takes just three days for Jensen to call. Buddy has left him three lovely hairballs in the living room. Thankfully, just one was on the rug and the other two were easier to clean on the hardwood floor. But Jensen is immediately concerned and sucks up all his nerves to dial the number.

Two days later, Jensen wakes with his heart immediately kicking up a notch at the thought of facing the vet this morning.

He stays in bed longer than normal, pushing it to the limit of how much time he has to get ready. It’s Buddy who gets him to move, jumping onto the bed, walking up Jensen’s legs to his stomach, and plopping down on Jensen’s chest in a heavy ball with accusing eyes staring at him. It’s a guilt-inducing stare, Jensen can feel it, so he pets Buddy a few times and grumbles. “Alright, fine, I’m getting up.”

Once they’re outside, Jensen tries to concentrate on getting to the clinic rather than what’s awaiting him there. Buddy walks alongside Jensen, happily prancing while Jensen pedals slow and steady, sometimes even just coasting with his feet padding along the ground as the cat keeps up a steady gait.

When they reach the clinic, Jensen locks up his bike to a light pole outside then stares at the signage above the door. His nerves make him unsteady on his feet but he has to take a few labored breaths before he walks in with Buddy trailing alongside him.

A metal clanking bell jangles at the doorway and Jensen tries to ignore how annoyingly loud it is. There’s no one in sight at the long wooden counter, painted pink and blue and orange in all sorts of intersecting lines. The office space spreads further back in an open format and there’s just one other area with a medium blue counter top and matching cabinetry, a few chairs, and a big metal table. A half wall separates the space from this front check-in area and a tall run of Plexiglas. In all, the place is at least half the size he’d imagined. Then again, Jensen has never had a pet and never had to take one to the vet, so he supposes anything is possible.

“Hi there!” rings out in a bubbly, happy voice, then nothing else comes when Jensen is face to face with the redhead from his building.

It’s been nearly two months since that first incident and a few weeks since their latest run-in, but he hasn’t forgotten how tense each interaction has been.

She obviously hasn’t either. “What’re you doing here?” she asks with a quick glance around the front area, as if she wishes there was someone else there to talk to.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and he’s not sure if he means for this terrible moment or the ones they’ve shared before.

The look on her face makes it obvious she doesn’t know either.

Jensen clears his throat, checks on Buddy at his feet, then forces himself to face her again. “I have an appointment for 2 o’clock.”

“For yourself?” she asks with heavily laid snark.

Jensen manages to keep the scowl down and tries to recognize that while they’ve had a terrible first impression (and plenty of glaring passing moments coming or going from the building), this isn’t the time to deal with it. He has more pressing concerns, so he reaches down to pick Buddy up and set him on the counter. “For him.”

She instantly thaws and turns into a warm smiley mess of cooing at Buddy, fingers trailing all through his hair, stroking knuckles at his cheeks. “Oh, aren’t you a pretty doll? Look at your luscious locks, so pure and white and soft. You’re such a sweetheart. Look at you.”

This goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time. Jensen even thinks he may be growing a sliver of jealousy that this woman has transformed so quickly between staring down Jensen, Enemy Number 1, and now facing the cat.

His cat, he corrects. And maybe that is also helping him harbor ill feelings because he can now hear the rumbling, happy purrs coming from Buddy. Purrs Jensen always thought were specifically reserved for Jensen’s pets.

Even when Jensen fought against it for so long, he acknowledges that he’s let Buddy into his life. And maybe a little into his heart. But now Buddy’s giving it up like a cheap hook-up to Jensen’s apparent nemesis.

“Yeah, so the appointment’s for him,” Jensen says, trying to get her back on task. He also tries putting on his nicest voice, which is still a bit tight and awkward. It’s basically his default position after all. “He’s had some hairballs recently so I wanted to be sure nothing’s wrong.”

She checks the computer, tapping around on the keyboard a bit, then looks at him with narrowed eyes. “Jensen Ackles,” she says in a way that speaks of judgment. He imagines she’s going to do her best to remember that name for the rest of her life.

He nods and forces a small smile onto his face. “Yeah. That’s me.”

With a slow nod, she taps one key and walks away without another word. When she reaches the back open space, she turns around and rolls her eyes. “You coming or what?”

“Or what,” he says to himself. She may not be happy to see him, but he surely isn’t pleased he picked the one veterinarian where she works.

As if he wasn’t already strung up enough in the anxiety of having to face Jared again. As if he wasn’t already making a mountain out of this meager mole hill.

He forces himself to move, stepping around the corner and heading back to the sliding plexiglass door she shows off with a cheeky grin.

“Dr. Padalecki will be right with you.”

Jensen smiles a little in thanks. Once she’s gone to a hallway leading off further into the building, he sits in the chair in the corner and watches Buddy wander around the space, sniffing every square inch before glancing back at Jensen every few seconds. He wonders what the cat is thinking. If Buddy is terrified to be in a new space, a cold, open place without soft blankets or plush couch cushions to curl up on or cat trees to scratch.

He wonders if he should’ve brought the blanket with him, and when he sees the cages and carriers stacked up near the reception desk, he feels sorry for himself, and Buddy, that he didn’t bother getting one of those to carry the cat here. Jensen thought it would be okay when Buddy is so self-sufficient to get around and the clinic is just a few blocks from Jensen’s place.

Buddy had happily trotted beside him all the way here. And hell, Jensen thought after spending so many nights cooped up in his apartment, the cat would enjoy getting out for a long walk.

But maybe he has it all wrong. And maybe he has no idea whatsoever of how to take care of this cat. Maybe he’s failing in every single category and now the vet – _Jared_ , he sighs – is going to call Jensen out on all the mistakes he’s making. Maybe the guy will take the cat away even if Jensen still thinks this isn’t quite the right thing in his life; it’s become so normal for him now that he can’t bear to think about parting ways.

He’s in the middle of all this worry when Jared walks in, and he’s immediately taken aback by so many things. Some he’d remembered: the height, bulk of his shoulders, lean length of his legs, not to mention the boyish smile with dimples creasing his cheeks, and glossy eyes that seem to cut right into Jensen’s chest with how they assess him as Jared steps up to the table now between them.

Others he didn’t expect, like the geeky image on display with a button-up, thin tie knotted at the neck, and the long white lab coat with _Dr. J. Padalecki_ elegantly sewn across the left breast. The hair is still soft, but it’s combed back a bit, both sides pulled behind his ears, and it puts those high pink cheekbones on display in a way Jensen wasn’t prepared for.

Then Jared’s eyes widen, along with his mouth in a big, toothy smile, as he greets Jensen. “Hey, good to see you again.”

There’s a long moment of silence as they look at one another and Jensen is doing his best to not overthink every single movement of the vet’s face, but there’s something there that’s warm and welcoming, open and kind.

Jensen thinks he knows that look. The one that is pleasantly surprised to be facing something appealing, someone attractive. Jensen’s been on this end of that look plenty of times before. Thought he was when they first met, but then his mind twisted it all around when Jared handed over his business card. Or maybe it’s just good ole business sense to be friendly with patients and Jared could be happy Jensen decided to use that business card after all.

“So, how’ve you been?” Jared asks with a joyful smile. “How’s the cat?”

Clearing his throat, Jensen sits up in the chair and thinks through something important and profound to say. All that makes its way out of his mouth is, “You were right about the litter.”

Jared laughs, so loud and clear it’s not just put upon. He’s actually amused.

At or with Jensen, it’s not clear yet.

“Yeah, it’s a great idea, the lightweight stuff,” Jared says with a grin. “But really terrible execution.”

“It was terrible,” Jensen says with a huff. “The stuff never clumps and then the cat just makes a mess of it all and didn’t even want to use the box for a while and cleaning _that_ up …” He takes a deep breath as he realizes he’s getting all worked up. “It’s just not what I signed up for.”

“I don’t think anyone signs up for that kind of mess.” There’s an easy nod and Jared starts watching Buddy slink around the space, sniffing every square inch of floor and cabinetry he walks by. “It could be worse, though.”

Jensen waits a bit for the _worse_ to come and when Jared just smiles while taking in every move Buddy makes, Jensen finally clears his throat. “And how’s that?”

“If you had a dog, you’d have to get used to actually picking the stuff up.” Jared aims that easy, open, amused look right at Jensen to add on, “And I bet that’s far more than you were willing to sign up for.”

“I wasn’t really willing to sign up for this in the first place,” he admits, then pulls himself back because he thinks it makes him sound like an ungrateful pet owner. No matter how this whole thing came to be with Buddy, Jensen has conceded to the point that he let the cat stay the night … many nights, and has now committed himself to doing the best he can for Buddy. “I mean,” he starts, looking away from Jared to gather his thoughts. “I like him. It isn’t what I thought it would be, but it’s … it’s nice, actually. If I really let myself think about it.”

Jared grants him a soft look with his head tipped a little. “And that’s the best part of having a pet. Seeing how they make themselves a part of your life.”

“More like wedged himself into it,” Jensen mutters, but he lets out a small smile when Jared laughs.

“Yeah, they have a way of doing that. But you got yourself a gorgeous kitter here.” Jared carefully grabs hold of Buddy and brings him up onto the examination table, petting him as soon as his feet hit the metal top. Those big hands covering most of Buddy’s back with just one quick move of stroking through the fur.

Jensen thinks about how soft Buddy’s coat is when he does that, lets his fingers coast between the strands, and it’s an addictive, calming kind of effect on a particularly terrible day. “He’s gotten sick a few times this week, but otherwise he’s okay. I don’t know. Sometimes I worry if maybe he’s missing his real home.”

Jared glances up at that with wide eyes. “Did you steal him?” Then he chuckles a little. “You don’t really seem the type, though.”

“No, of course not. Just that … I met him out on the street so I want to make sure he doesn’t belong to someone else.”

“Before you get too attached, huh?”

Jensen doesn’t respond.

He doesn’t have to because Jared gets it with his sweet little head tilt. “You already are, huh?”

Jensen rubs at the back of his neck and turns a little towards the corner. “Yeah, I guess.”

“That’s really sweet.”

Jared’s voice is gentle, almost hidden, when he says it, and Jensen looks at him to gauge just how the vet is handling Buddy. The cat is liquid in Jared’s hands, spreading out on the table and rolling into every touch of those professional hands. Jensen may be, too, when Jared continues to look Jensen right in the eyes with a thoughtful, steady gaze.

And maybe Jensen was wrong all this time. Maybe Jared … Dr. Padalecki … has more interest here than just taking care of animals. Jensen isn’t foolish enough to ignore that there are plenty of men and women, alike, who find him attractive. But he is always highly uncomfortable under the awkward attention, especially when he is often such a failure at socializing, dating, or, hell, even just communicating when all of his anxieties get in the way.

Still, Jensen’s own suspicious mind twists it all in the other direction to insist Jared is just an attentive and highly thoughtful veterinarian, so of course he’s going to be asking Jensen all sorts of things to catalog Buddy’s situation.

With that weighing far more heavily on him, Jensen pulls into himself because it should be obvious that Jared is not interested, and this is certainly not the time or place to be showing it, not in the man’s place of business. That can’t be what’s happening here. No matter how often Jared shoots him generous smiles.

“Tell me about the getting sick part?” Jared asks, eyes still on Buddy as he pets along his side and even under to his belly with long strokes. 

“It’s usually after eating.” Jensen closes his eyes against the memories of the sounds and movements of Buddy throwing up everything in his stomach. “He just moves to another room, cleans himself up, then suddenly … it all comes up.”

Jared weighs Buddy while asking questions about his weight, along with the food Buddy eats and Jensen immediately shrinks into himself for apparently making poor decisions. For bringing this onto Buddy, himself, because of his own mistakes.

There is no blame, just Jared suggesting smaller servings, focusing more on hard food if it continues, and offering some samples for sensitive stomachs. Even as Jensen refuses, Jared calls for Danneel to grab the cans. 

When she comes in, she’s eyeing both Jensen and Jared, far too obviously for Jensen’s liking, yet Jared isn’t even watching her. The vet is focused on Buddy and Jensen in equal measure, which may be even worse with Danneel’s critical watch of the moment before she disappears to the back of the office again. 

“It’s quite a small world, huh?” Jared asks while holding Buddy’s face in his hands. His fingers are gentle as he pulls at the edges of Buddy’s mouth, checking the teeth.

Jensen sucks in a breath because he’s not sure what Jared will find in Buddy’s mouth. If that’s causing issues when eating or something else Jensen has yet to know. Also, because he doesn’t know what Jared is talking about. “For what?”

“That we ran into each, and now I find out you’re the guy with the cat from Danneel’s,” the vet says with a grin.

Jensen can’t tell if it’s accusatory or not, but something in him feels defensive anyway. “The one with the cat?” he repeats.

“Yeah, at Danneel’s place.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Jared gives him a coddling smile, complete with the purposefully slow movement of pointing over Jensen’s shoulder towards the desk at the front of the office. “Not a what, but a who.”

At that moment, the redhead from earlier comes into view and happily smiles and waves for the vet. Once her eyes meet Jensen’s, she narrows her eyes, flips her hair over the other shoulder, then goes back out of sight with a bunch of folders in hand.

“She’s …” Jensen trails off with dread filling his bones.

“Danneel, my assistant.”

“And my neighbor,” he fills in.

“Seems like,” Jared replies happily.

“Yeah. Great.”

“So, now we all know each other.” He grins and it should calm Jensen, but instead it just throws him into another loop of worry for what all they’ve said to one another about him. Like Danneel and Jared sit around at morning coffee while she dramatically reenacts their awful interactions. “I’m Dr. Padalecki. Happy to officially meet you and your sweet kiddo here.”

“I’m Jensen,” he replies, feeling his cheeks heat up with how stupid it is to re-introduce himself when Jared is already acknowledging they’ve met before.

It’s even worse when Jared grins while carefully running his hands down Buddy’s back and says, “I remember.”

When Jensen says no more, Jared gets more professionally to the matter at hand, scruffing around Buddy’s ears. “Okay, so what about this kitty? What else can you tell me about him?”

“Well, he’s a new cat.”

“He can’t be that new. He looks pretty big to me,” he jokes.

Jensen doesn’t laugh; he tightens his lips before drumming up his words. “He’s new _to me_. I just took him in a few months ago. But I wonder if he belongs to someone else?”

“Is he chipped?” the doctor asks, even as he now runs his fingers down along the back of the cat’s head and between the shoulders, just where Jensen had read they would put the microchip.

“I honestly don’t know.” Jensen glances away as he feels ashamed to not have that answer. As if he’s done something wrong for bringing Buddy into his home, potentially taking the cat away from some other family that can and does love him much better than Jensen ever could. “That’s part of why I brought him in. Aside from getting sick and all that.”

Running his hands along the cat’s body, Jared seems to be checking for other indications of … what, Jensen doesn’t know, but it all appears rather intense to be pressing fingers against the cat in all sorts of places.

“Is he okay?” Jensen asks then zips up when the doctor flashes him a crooked smile. “I mean, because you’re like …”

“Just doing a general check-up.”

“Oh, I didn’t schedule that.” He certainly isn’t prepared to pay for that. “I was just hoping to find out if – ”

“No worries. I’m just checking for anything obvious.” As Jared pokes and prods, he starts asking general questions like where Jensen found the cat, how long he’s had him, and what his name is.

The last part stalls Jensen because he’s sure that it’s a terrible name, even if he’s grown used to it. He thinks Buddy has, too.

Jared grins at Jensen as his fingers continue their path down over Buddy’s stomach. “It’s not like I asked the square root of pi.”

“Well, I don’t know that either,” Jensen replies, growing more and more confused by the examination.

“It’s 1.77245 – ”

“I call him Bud sometimes,” Jensen answers when he catches back up to the conversation. To make up for totally missing the point of the questions. “Or Buddy. I don’t know. It’s not official or anything.”

“You’ve been taking care of this cat for four months and you don’t have a real name?”

“ _I_ have a real name,” Jensen shoots back. It’s meant as a joke, but he can hear how harsh his voice is, so he mentally backs up and tries again. “I just settled on Buddy when nothing else came up.”

Jared makes a noise, even flashes Jensen a look like he’s sizing him up, perhaps trying to figure out what Jensen’s deal is. Jensen would prefer he figure out the cat’s deal instead of grilling him like he’s testifying in court or something. Then Jensen could run out of here and get back the comfortable safety of his apartment, where he doesn’t have to talk to people and second-guess every word said to a particularly handsome face.

At the very least, he’d prefer to go back to the generic small talk that felt a lot lighter than all this. Like maybe Jared has more interest in talking than just examining the cat and doing his job.

Frazzled by the awkward silence, Jensen opens up about how he doesn’t know cats, has never had one, and just assumes Buddy has been growing at a breakneck speed because he’s far older than Jensen had first assumed.

“He just keeps growing and growing,” Jensen sighs.

“Yeah, animals do that,” Jared jokes.

“But like, this is an insane amount of growing since I first met him? He used to be this small,” Jensen insists with his hands curled together to the general size of the kitten he first met nearly half a year ago. “There must be something wrong with him?”

Jared shakes his head immediately. “Not at all. At least not for his breed.”

Jensen has to prompt him with a drawn out, “And that is?”

“Maine Coon,” he announces happily. “Fun fact, it is the largest breed of domestic cat.”

Jensen doesn’t think that’s particularly fun. Just how big will this cat get?

“Also, why Maine is called Maine.”

Jensen blinks, unsure if Jared is joking. Yet the man’s face is set in concentration as he continues to assess Buddy, so maybe not. “They named the state after a cat?”

“Or the other way around.” Jared glances up for a quick wink then goes back to his assessment. His fingers push into Buddy’s belly again, checking and rechecking a few different spots, and Jensen waits for Buddy to bite the hell out of the vet’s hand because Jensen never gets to touch Buddy like that. No matter how soft the fur there is, so luxurious and so long, Buddy can only stand to be touched on his belly for a few quick seconds before going on the attack.

Jensen keeps all those thoughts to himself, along with anything else to change the subject. He’s suddenly spiraling into all sorts of wormholes of what Jared’s reaction would be to anything Jensen could offer. Jensen is well aware he’s failing at anything close to basic conversation.

In Jensen’s silence, Jared goes on to explain. “Maine Coons are actually native to the state of Maine, so I like to think it’s a chicken or the egg kind of thing.”

He still doesn’t want to say anything, but he does make a quick thoughtful noise.

The corner of Jared’s mouth tips up, like he’s pleased at the sound. Like it’s all the permission he needs to continue. “It’s actually the official state cat. In case you ever need to know for trivia night.” Jared seems done with his inspection, so he stands up straight and settles his hands on Buddy’s back, fingers rubbing gently along his spine. “And they can get pretty big, which is why this one is growing so fast. Right now, he’s about seven pounds. On average, they can get up to 18 pounds.” He laughs then suddenly stops and leans in, as if he’s sharing a great secret. “One was recorded at almost 40.”

Jensen is absolutely not as amused about this as Jared is. Buddy growing more, up to four times his currently already large frame … Jensen’s going to need a bigger apartment.

Jared makes an odd noise then goes for the most obvious view and has Buddy stand up on his hind legs while he pulls the tail straight up to inspect the back end. Jensen’s eyes widen and he wonders if there’s something else going on with that end of Buddy that he has to be concerned about.

When Jared’s done with that assessment, he pets along the cat’s back, patting softly at the bottom of its spine, and helping it to settle back down on the metal table. “Well, you ready for some juicy news?”

Jensen thinks no. Knows he’s not, but he supposes Jared’s voice is more upbeat than cancer or some other serious illness.

“First of all,” Jared says with a formal air about him, “This ain’t Buddy anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Jensen snaps with confusion. He takes a breath and adjusts his stress level and tone. “I mean, what? What does that even mean.”

“It’s a girl!” he announces with a grin. “So, you may want a new name. Budina ain’t so bad, I guess.”

“You guess?”

Jared shrugs. “You should see the names we hear.”

“You said first of all,” Jensen reminds him, already dreading what other news is about to hit. “What’s second?”

“The second thing is this here is likely a purebred Maine coon. Which is why she’s growing so big.”

“But he’ll stop soon.” Jensen mentally kicks himself, hearing the pronoun as soon as he’s said it. That’ll take some getting used to. “I mean, she. Right?”

Jared laughs brightly, and Jensen doesn’t even want to know what kind of moron he is now for asking _that_ question.

“I’m guessing that means no?” Jensen asks.

“You’re absolutely correct. Cats can continue growing up to five years. That’s about when they reach their ultimate size. And Maine Coons … well, you’re in one for hell of a ride.”

“Great,” he grumbles with an eye roll.

“Yeah, it is pretty great.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well, she’s a pretty one. Her coat is nice and clean. Really soft. Her eyes look good, and I didn’t feel anything on my first pass over her. But we can schedule a full check-up appointment and get her shots up to date. Also, you should have her spayed. Especially if you said she’s been living on the street before you got her.”

“Shots?” And get her _spayed_. Jesus, what kind of excess responsibility is this about to create for him? Not to mention, Jensen suddenly worries what that would do to him … her … the cat.

“Yeah, just regular vaccines. Kind of like with kids. To protect them against the big stuff, boost their immunity.”

His mind immediately shifts gears and wants to finish today’s checklist before adding more troubles to his life. “I think just the chip scan for now?”

“You sure?”

Jensen runs a hand over his head, brings it down to grab at the back of his neck as he thinks through all of this. He’s never been financially fruitful. He gets by with enough and can handle the costs of adding a cat to his daily routine but doing more with extra appointments and vaccinations, he’s certain it’ll put him back far further than he needs to be when he’s already working to eliminate major debt.

Jared puts a hand on Jensen’s elbow and squeezes, offering him a kind look. “It’s not that big of a deal right now.”

He surprises himself that he doesn’t flinch out of Jared’s grip. Instead, he settles in and finds himself enjoying the soft touch of the man’s hand now rubbing along his upper arm and aiming a well-intentioned gentle smile at him. It’s definitely easing him in the moment and he winds up mumbling, “I just don’t know …”

“I’d say a few of the shots are pretty imperative, especially if you keep letting her outside. But you can pace some out so it’s easier. On her and you.”

“Well, yeah, but if I’m at work and she likes to be outside, then what?”

“Then shots are the way to go to keep her safe.”

Jensen drops his head to stare at his feet, thinking through all of this, running numbers and schedules for when all this has to be done versus his bank accounts.

Jared, patient as all hell, carefully asks, “What are you thinking?”

“Of course, I want him to be safe … _her_. For her to be safe and healthy.”  
Jensen looks up, eyes hopeful and waiting. 

Jared doesn’t let him down, as he assures Jensen with a nod. “And she will be. This is the first step to you ensuring she’s good.”

Jensen feels an ounce or two of comfort with Jared’s thoughtful insistence, but then when Jared pulls out the scanner and checks around the cat’s neck, there’s a whole new flare of worry rising to the surface.

The procedure is simple; Jensen had read all about it and he can see right now just how simple it is. Yet it seems to draw out in slow motion as Jensen waits for any sort of reaction from the scanner or, ultimately, Jared’s face. He’s watching the vet closely, checking every minor twitch of an eyebrow or quirk of his lips. His heart races with even a tiny hint of a reaction and it goes double time when Jared looks right at him as the scanner continues its hunt.

Jensen equally hates and is thankful that the scanner isn’t picking up anything, because it means waiting even longer as Jared continues to hunt around. However, it also means Jensen can continue on with the hope that Buddy … the cat … she is rightfully his.

It also doesn’t hurt that he keeps staring at Jared and continues to appreciate the lines of his cheeks and jaw, the pink of his thin lips curling up with amusement that Jensen is so worried, and those eyes that are clear and open as they stare right back at Jensen.

Jared finishes his search and puts the scanner down on the table beside the cat. He stands up straight and bites his lower lip, glancing away from Jensen in an oddly nervous motion, and Jensen suddenly worries he did indeed find something and doesn't have the heart to tell Jensen.

“Well, good news, bad news,” Jared starts as he brushes his hand over the cat’s head, swiping down along its spine before doing it again.

Jensen gulps, stutters on his feet a bit before stepping forward to set his hands on the metal table. The tip of his index finger strokes just along the cat’s ear. “Okay, alright,” he gets out through the nerves, unable to say much more until he gets the blow.

“Good news is I don’t think there’s a chip.”

There’s a great breath of relief at that, until Jensen mutters, “But bad news?”

Jared smirks at him and scruffs the back of the cat’s head. “You and your boyfriend are stuck with this beautiful lady.”

Jensen finds himself grinning immediately, at Jared then at the cat, and quickly petting over her cheek and under her chin. There’s a small part of him that feels ridiculous to have such a quick overwhelming sense of relief, warm and soft all over, that she is officially his to keep.

A moment later he snaps back to attention and blinks at Jared. “Why did you say boyfriend?”

“I just …” Jared laughs to himself and then gets busy marking up some form on a clipboard at the counter. “Assumed, I guess.”

Jensen wonders if there was something specific in any of their interactions to make him think that, if Jensen perhaps gives off that vibe. In any other situation, he knows he wouldn’t give it a second thought and move on. For some reason, he’s stuck on it now, with Jared, and is suddenly worried about what the vet thinks of him. Especially about this.

Jared clears his throat and motions with the clipboard. “So, we can get you checked out up front with Danneel. In the meantime, there’s a schedule here for her shots and if you have any questions, you can call us here. Or use my number on the card. It’s my direct line so I can answer any concerns without having to schedule an appointment ”

When they’re at the front counter and silence falls over them, Jensen’s mind races over a hundred things to say. Like he enjoyed seeing Jared again or he’s thankful the vet took such great care with Buddy or even talk about scheduling the shots. 

Jared must sense the awkwardness coming off Jensen in waves because he simply knocks on the counter top after sliding the file to Danneel to close out the appointment. 

“No boyfriend,” Jensen spits out before he can think about it. He still isn’t sure why he cares, but he has a sudden impulse to set the record straight. 

Especially with Jared, who stops in place and slowly turns back to face him. 

Danneel is also slow to move towards him and watch whatever Jensen is going to say next. 

It isn’t elegant, not by a mile. “It’s just me and the cat.”

With a small nod, Jared says, “I’m sorry to hear that,” yet his tiny smile says otherwise.

Suddenly, Jensen wants to clear all sorts of things up, so when his mouth opens, it all comes out. “You said you knew I was from Danneel’s building. Which probably means she told you we’ve had some not so great conversation. But it’s not her. It’s all me.” Jensen shifts to look at Danneel and frowns. “I’m sorry. I’m just not the best at talking to people. Which I’m sure is obvious from me right now. I guess that’s why there’s no boyfriend, either, because I just don’t really bother talking to many people if I don’t have to? I think I’ve talked more to you than most people in months.”

Jensen realizes that most of his admission was aimed right at Danneel. He scowls at himself then glances at Jared. 

Somehow, despite the ridiculous runaround of Jensen’s thoughts, Jared continues to smile at him. In fact, the man looks to be growing more interest the more Jensen talks because his cheeks have gone a little pink and his eyes are warm as he watches Jensen go on.

Jensen laughs at himself, a little bit with worry and a lot because of nerves. “And I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, but I did. So I guess now we can all move on.”

As if sensing the stress, Buddy nudges Jensen’s leg then gets up on her hind legs to reach up to his thigh with a tiny meow. Jensen smiles at her, thankful for the distraction, and the comfort, and busies himself with thumbing at her cheeks. 

Jared clears his throat, gathering the attention of both Jensen and Danneel. “Well, we, I … hope to see you again real soon.”

Jensen decides to move past all he’s said and nods with a firm, “Right, for the shots.” 

“We’ll get you some paperwork,” Danneel offers, with a quick glance back at Jared. “Then you can figure it out.”

Jensen is filled with the want to defend himself and quickly explains, “It’s just the money part. Not like I’m super poor or anything.” He stops himself for a second to collect his thoughts and maybe dig himself out of this sad turn of conversation. “It’s just, not what I was expecting right now.”

“I know,” Jared says, even if Jensen thinks he’s just being nice. Especially when the vet steps up to the counter, comes beside Jensen and rubs his hand across Jensen’s back. “It’ll all work out somehow. We can help you out with that.” He clears throat and seems to ignore Danneel looking at them, even skirts away from Jensen’s confused gaze. “If anything else comes up, feel free to call. As I said, my cell number is also on the card. I’m always available.”

Jensen is again confused as to where the line is between professionalism and something more. Even when he’s likely blurred himself with the sudden blurting out about not having a boyfriend. While he surely would look forward to more, even if that were even a possibility – his mind quickly tells him it’s not, so he shoves that down. Even ignores how Jared pats his shoulder again and squeezes a little. Jared goes on to wish him well, even pauses like he’s going to say something else, then just nods and reminds him to get the shots.

Danneel isn’t quite friendly but she’s thawed out quite a bit from previous interactions. “You’re the guy from the pet store,” she half asks, half says. Her eyes seem to be intent on him, like she’s critiquing him. And maybe she is, given how she knows he met Jared before. Must’ve heard that from Jared, and Jensen isn’t sure what that really means. Now she can add this whole strange conversation to the mix and really wonder what the hell is wrong with Jensen.

He looks back to the exam area, but Jared’s already gone and Jensen thinks he shouldn’t feel so disappointed.

She reminds him about the being spayed part and reinforces why it’s so important, to help minimize the number of cats out on the street. “Hell, you found her on the streets,” she points out, “Probably for this very reason. Her mama wasn’t spaid and the cycle continues.”

“Is it hard? On the cat, I mean. Like what happens?”

Danneel smirks, seeming to dare him. “You want a blow by blow account of the whole procedure?”

“How about just the Cliff’s Notes?”

“It’s one of the most common procedures on cats,” Danneel assures him, surprisingly easy in her tone and her look. Like she’s trying to comfort him about the whole thing. It is jarring compared to all their other interactions, but he appreciates it anyway. “She’ll be put under and we monitor all the vitals, like breathing and heart rate. But I promise that it’s really routine and easy on her.”

“And after? What happens after the … procedure? Are there any problems then?”

“She’ll just have to come back to get the stitches taken out. Otherwise, she can return to business as usual.”

Danneel hands over a pamphlet about neutering pets and he runs his thumb over the pictures on the front, a big brown happy looking dog and slim orange cat. He thinks about how neither of these animals are like his cat, but they seem healthy and happy, all things considered.

Jensen presses his fingers around the pamphlet, crinkling the edges as he thinks about how this cat has become a bigger ordeal than he ever planned. And when he looks up at Danneel, still watching him, he thinks about the few times she’s talked to him at their building about Buddy … who he still needs a new name. Which will be hell after having no idea what to call her when he thought it was a male.

With a defeated nod, Jensen says, “So, you were just offering professional advice.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, a little tight and a lot confused.

“All those times when we ran into each other … you weren’t just harassing me about the cat, but actually trying to help.”

“Who would’ve thought?” Danneel smirks and tips her head to stare at him, like all the times before, but with a little less fire. “I wasn’t trying to be a bitch. I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, I see that now,” Jensen concedes. “I’m sorry. For all of that before.” He folds the pamphlet and shoves it in his pocket just so he can be busy with anything aside from looking at her as he admits all of this. “I’m not used to dealing with people much. It’s very possible I’m not actually very good at it.”

“I can tell,” she chuckles. “But it’s kind of charming now that I know that. You’re just a bit more awkward than the average fella.”

A smile comes to his face before he can stop it. He nods in agreement and figures he’s said enough to ease this situation. There are thoughts about asking if he could talk to her more about the cat, or call here when other things come up … but he knows he’ll do neither. He’ll just stick to Google and seek out all his answers on the internet, without human interaction.

“Do you want to schedule your follow up?” she offers while tapping at the keyboard.

He hums and looks at the cat standing at his side. He definitely should, but he doesn’t want to deal with that right now. He thinks he’s already done enough with these awkward conversations, especially with Jared. Words he’d love to erase from memory, though he’s sure they’ll replay in his head ad nauseum.

Besides, he has more research to do before he feels comfortable with giving the cat up for the procedure or be needled for shots.

“I’ll get back to you on that.,” Jensen finally answers.

Danneel now has a bit of a frown going on and he hates that she feels sorry for him. Even if it seems like it’s an improvement to all previous attitudes they’ve exchanged. “Don’t wait too long. Especially if she remains an outdoor cat.”

“Yeah, okay,” he replies, intending to agree that he sees the problem. He thinks it may have come out with more attitude because she glares at him.

“I know where you live,” comes out like a threat, but it’s tempered with a smile when she comes around the counter and scrubs fingers against the side of the cat’s face. “And I know where to come find you, baby girl.”

Hearing _girl_ is still alarming. He’ll have to get used to that.


	3. Chapter 3

Jensen doesn’t believe in karma or kismet or any other power of drawing two objects together to fit the grand scheme of this world.

But he has to admit there’s something at play when he’s near the end of his day and gets a last-minute delivery.

“I think it’s on your way home,” one of the dispatchers says back at the office. The young woman texts him the pick-up location and a contact name, neither of which mean anything to him. 

What does make an impact is when he appears at the print shop and is handed a padded envelope packed with what he assumes are folded pamphlets, given the shape and heft of the package. The items aren’t a bother; the name on the label is. 

_Padalecki Animal Clinic_ flies through his brain as he reads and re-reads the address, even when he knows exactly where the office is.

It’s been a few weeks since he was last there, since he side-stepped orders to get his cat neutered and up to date on shots. He didn’t ignore it because he thought they were bad ideas. He just wasn’t quite ready to face it. Or to face the vet after his barrage of personal information to correct Jared when he assumed Jensen had a boyfriend, not to mention shoving an apology in there for Danneel. 

Granted, the few times he’s run into Danneel in the lobby, she’s now friendly and asks after his cat, offers help if he needs it. 

He appreciates that, sure, but he also hates the underlying insistence that he doesn’t know what he’s doing and absolutely needs all the help she can offer. 

So, he’d shoved his head in the sand like an oblivious ostrich and gone on with his life, avoiding memories of that day at the clinic. Now, he has to face it full on by doing his job and taking the last delivery of the night that will add a nice bump to his paycheck. He can’t exactly ignore it, not when the package is now in his hands and the receptionist at the print shop is staring at him. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, slowly reaching for the phone. 

He wonders if she’s aiming to call 9-1-1 for or because of him.

With a quick nod, Jensen clears himself of the worry, at least long enough to finish this interaction and insist he’s good. 

Minutes later, he’s on the road and pedaling through the heat of late spring shifting into early summer. The extended daylight is good for his mood, but the hot sun is strong on his back and he knows he’s sweating through his shirt by the time he gets to the clinic. He’s hopeful since it’s near the end of the day, Jared will be gone already. Maybe Danneel, too.

Most of the lights are off inside, just a small desk lamp on the other side of the counter lets Jensen see inside, so he hesitantly knocks, half hoping no one is there. Even if that means he has to run back to the print shop to return the package. 

Or he could shove the package through the mail slot in the door, forge a signature for his clipboard, and then head on home with all thoughts of this gone from his mind.

Forging the signature isn’t ideal, not by a long shot. If anyone found out, he’d quickly be out on the street with that stain on his record when going for another messenger job. After spending the last decade doing this, he’s not sure where he could turn for a new start. 

The door suddenly swings open, that obnoxious bell at the top jangling loudly and dragging him back to the moment. 

Danneel smiles at him, though she’s glancing around with confusion. “Hey, what do you need?”

Lamely, Jensen shows off the envelope in his hand. “I have a delivery.”

“Oh, okay. Why don’t you come in,” she offers, shifting back into the clinic. 

He takes one step then stops when there’s movement further back in the office. A few seconds pass as Jensen watches Jared come into view, looking as confused as Danneel did when she first opened the door. 

At some point, though, Jared’s face evens out into pleasant surprise. “Jensen, hey. Everything okay?”

He thinks nothing is okay because now he’s facing both of them and they expect and explanation, when all he wants to do is hand over the package, get a signature, and run right home. 

“Jensen’s delivering a package,” Danneel says and Jensen suddenly looks at her to see the way she’s smirking along with her teasing tone. 

Now, Jensen is filled with shame that he’s facing someone smart enough to have _M.D._ after their name, not to mention holding the ability to turn Jensen’s life upside down with just a smile, and admit that yes, his menial job is that of a messenger. His only responsibility is delivering packages all over town, not curing illness and saving animals like Jared and Danneel do on a daily basis. 

“And you need to sign for it,” Danneel insists, nudging Jared forward as she walks back inside. 

Jared and Jensen share a nervous glance before and after Jensen hands over the clipboard for Jared to sign, then Jensen shoves it into his messenger bag and steps away with a lame, short wave. 

He’s hopping back onto his bike when Jared calls his name and comes over to stand next to him. There’s a moment of quiet and Jared taps the center of the bike’s handlebar with a strained smile. Kind of like when they first met at the pet store, and that makes Jensen’s mind spin all too fast as he remembers that meeting.

“I was about to grab a coffee,” Jared says. “I have a lot of files to get through tonight, clearing up notes and all that. But do you want to come with?”

Jensen stares at Jared, eyes taking in all of Jared’s face to figure out what exactly is being asked. “You want me to do notes with you?”

Jared laughs and shakes his head, hair going in all directions, messy and wavy after a long day. Jensen watches closely when Jared tucks it behind his ears, giving way to now blushing cheeks. It’s almost hypnotic and Jensen has to look away to get his wits about him. “No, sorry. I meant, do you want to grab a coffee with me? Before I get back to all the notes.”

It’s late for coffee, and Jensen knows if he says yes, then he’ll be up most of the night, jittery and anxiously reliving every second of this moment and whatever else happens over coffee. 

“If you have more deliveries, that’s okay.”

Jensen shakes his head and frowns. “No, you’re my last one.”

“Great!” Jared grins before taking in Jensen’s strained look. “Unless there’s something else wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just the thought of coffee this late,” he admits. “I normally stop coffee after lunch.”

“Oh, yeah, I totally understand. No worries.”

“I want to,” Jensen blurts with the sudden need to correct everything. To assure Jared that it isn’t him, the vet, that’s keeping Jensen from saying yes. Just his own mind screwing everything over and ruffling up every thought. 

Jared smiles, wide and warm, and Jensen is thankful Jared isn’t running away at everything Jensen has to say. “How about a soda?” After a moment of Jensen’s hesitation, Jared tacks on, “There’s a good shop a few blocks over that has all kinds of syrups for Italian Soda. It’s my treat. Consider it a tip for the package.”

Jensen needs more time to process it and while his brain turns over and over with worry of whether this is some kind of pseudo date - and worse, what if it’s _not_ \- Jared aims a charming smirk at him that short circuits his brain. So he’s unaware he’s talking until the words come out: “I guess I can’t say no to that?”

* * *

Jensen finds out that Jared talks a lot, and he talks quickly, sometimes backtracking thoughts and reassembling his words to make better sense. Jared also comes up with rapid fire questions, or at least it feels that way when Jensen is not used to talking this much or being responsible for this many answers in one sitting. Let alone in one day.

He wonders if it’s the sugar and caffeine of the Italian Soda that’s ramping up Jared’s speech, and then wonders what kind of effect a full cup of coffee would have on the man. 

“How’s your girl? Does she still go by Buddy?” Jared asks, suddenly shifting gears from asking Jensen about his life as a bike messenger. 

That was plenty boring, especially compared to Jared’s career. Jensen’s not so sure he likes the change in topic, though, because he’s embarrassed to admit he’d thought about keeping the name when nothing else he came up with seemed to fit. “Coming up with a name the first time was stressful.”

“What’d you end up with?”

Jensen doesn’t want to say; there’s too much embarrassment if he has to actually explain it. 

“I promise it can’t be terrible,” Jared chuckles. “I really do hear the bad ones. Fluffers. Bubbles. Charles Darwin.”

He makes a face and has to ask, “Darwin?”

“It was a foster kitten and the youngest boy named it. He really liked his science class.” Jared flits his eyebrows playfully. “So like I said, it can’t be that bad.”

“Well, it’s …” Jensen takes a long breath and glances away to mumble, “it’s Val.”

“Really?” Jared asks with a bit of tender excitement. “That’s a sweet name.”

He shrugs awkwardly. “If you think so.”

“You must think so, too, if you chose it.”

Jensen shrugs again and focuses on playing with the straw in his cup before pulling it closer to drink. 

“Did it just come to you or is it from something specific?”

He’s not sure just how honest he wants to be. Something inside him wants to tell Jared about it, to tell him a whole lot more, yet his default position has always been to keep everything in to avoid saying the wrong things or getting a bad reaction. It takes a few extra seconds to drum up the courage to reply, “A little of both.”

Jared scoots forward in his chair, like he’s ready for a deep secret. “So what’s it from?”

Just saying it should be so easy and yet Jensen can’t help drawing this out. Even while knowing it will just add too much pressure to the answer, as if the longer he waits to say it, the better it should be, when it’s just a random thing that came to him one night while watching TV. “It’s from the Saint.”

“Which saint?”

“No, not an actual saint.” Jensen shifts in his chair and sighs, annoyed with himself to be stuck in this conversation. He’d rather go back to the part where Jared chatted incessantly about how much he loves coming to this place and has tried nearly every single flavor of syrup. Cherry’s his favorite.

“I don’t understand,” Jared says, motioning for Jensen to go on. 

“The movie? Val Kilmer?” Jensen winces, even closes his eyes for a few seconds as he waits for the laughter and mockery to come. 

“A movie … Oh! _Val_ Kilmer.” There is laughter, but it’s soft and mellow as Jared leans in to drink from his straw, all while eyeing Jensen. When he’s done, he smirks. “That’s cute. I like it.”

“Yeah?” Jensen asks cautiously, sinking a little in his seat with fear Jared will suddenly break with hysteria at how ridiculous the name is - and the reason behind it. “It’s a guilty pleasure for me.”

“I haven’t seen it in a while, but I can see how it’s one that sticks with people.”

There’s a breath of relief that Jared is rolling along with it, no awkward questioning of Jensen’s taste in film. “It was on one night and it just sort of came to me.”

“It works,” Jared insists with a happy nod. “I hear all sorts of names and it’s always fun to hear where they came from. 

“Well, you can add Val Kilmer to the list,” he hazards to joke. The moment Jared laughs, Jensen’s stomach flips over and nerves light up all over his body. He tempers his feelings, because he thinks it’s an overreaction, though he admits there’s great satisfaction that he made Jared laugh so bright. 

He tries not to think too much of it. Maybe he’ll just tuck that memory and these feelings away for a rainy day, to remind him it’s possibly not the worst thing in the world to talk to people. 

Jared insists they need refills and is gone in an instant with both their glasses, leaving no room for Jensen to object. And there’s no arguing about it when Jared insists it’s still part of Jensen’s tip.

He even winks and Jensen again tries not to over-analyze it. 

Instead, Jensen asks about veterinary school and animals. “It’s pretty honorable being a veterinarian.”

Jared chuckles. “Not really _that_ honorable. I pet a lot of animals and tell people to not feed their pets so much.”

“I learned that lesson the hard way,” Jensen points out. 

“So she’s doing better now with smaller servings?”

“Yeah, she is,” he nods. “Thanks to you.”

“Just doing my job,” Jared replies playfully. He’s still got that light air about him when suddenly he leans forward with wonder in his voice. “Hey, speaking of, have you thought any more on bringing her in for shots and to get fixed?”

Jensen freezes because he has, on occasion, remembered that he still needs to get that done. Nerves have kept him away from the clinic; he’s been worried about facing Jared again, not to mention what kind of fuss it would create for Val, the pain and recovery. He manages to carefully answer, “I have thought about it.”

“It’s really not a big deal. Just an average procedure. She’d be in and out with no problem.”

His mind trails off with frustration. Not so much about the actual procedure, but that they’re shifting away from easy conversation into this territory and Jensen again wonders exactly why Jared talks to him. Each time they’re in front of one another, there seems to be something brewing, interest to some degree, and then it always circles back to Val and Jared’s work at the clinic. 

Jensen wonders if Jared is just trying to do his job and be good to his clients. If there’s nothing more here than looking to drum up more business and draw Jensen in with good looks and a bright smile. 

Which is fine, Jensen supposes, if he at least could see that more clearly. He wishes he weren’t blinded by the face in front of him, distracted easily with every laugh or long look Jared aims his way. 

“It’s really not so bad,” Jared goes on. “I do it a couple times a week down at the shelter. 

Right, Jared is not only a caring veterinarian who helps owners keep their pets in good health, he also works weekends at a humane shelter to treat and save animals on the streets. 

Meanwhile, Jensen is just a bike messenger, who is now pulling his bag into his lap so he can flee. He’s tired of putting himself into these situations, making even minimal effort to talk to Jared, only to realize there’s nothing happening here. That Jensen is just digging too deep to find some kind of meaning in everything Jared says or does when it’s just customer service for the vet.

Jared notices Jensen’s abrupt change and sits up straight, face changing with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jensen replies, but it’s obvious by his tone it’s anything but. “I should get home.”

Now Jared frowns and the way he slowly reaches out to touch Jensen’s glass does something odd to Jensen … drumming up guilt for putting that look on Jared’s face. “You didn’t even touch your drink.”

“Val’s probably waiting for me,” he says instead, ignoring how stupid it sounds. Surely, the cat can wait an extra hour for him. It used to be on the street to fend for itself and Jensen has been able to ease himself from the strict schedule, no longer worrying about being home at the exact time every day for her. She seems to whine whether he feeds her on time or not.

But it’s the best excuse he has on hand, so he leaves Jared with that and is gone without another word. He gets his bike unchained and rolling forward before he hears the door from the shop open, then he’s on the bike and pedalling when Jared calls him name. 

Jensen has no response to that. He just keeps his head forward and rides home.

* * *

His days are spent on his bike, distracted by each route to pick up and deliver packages. He returns to his regular effort of minimal talking in limited interactions and the comfort of completing one task after another.

At night, he’s got Val to keep him company and, even if he doesn’t say much to her either, she seems to fill in the silence with her insistent meows to get his attention. For fresh food or to top off the water bowl, or even for the close comfort of settling in his lap for him to pet her. 

She’s now the size of a larger than average cat, a good 13 to 14 pounds when he weighs her on his home scale. Most nights, she falls asleep on his legs, spreading out on his whole lap with a nice, heavy weight, and he struggles to stay completely still, hoping to not wake her when she looks so sweet and peaceful. She’s a fluffy thought heavy cloud perfectly spun of long white and grey fur, paws tucked over her face as she rolls into a tight ball. 

It makes him think about how he feels these days, pulling in tight, hiding himself from the outside world. For the first time in a long while, he wonders if it’s really for the best. 

Bringing Val home with him was a shock to his system, but he’s rather happy with the results. He knows she’s made his nights better, even if it just means feeding and petting her. There’s a sense of pride that’s grown more and more the longer they’ve been together, to know that he’s made her life better by taking her off the streets and giving her a home. And there’s the bloom of care he feels for her when she comes to him, that warm pleasure that she chooses him, wants his love and attention, too. 

He still has that flash of worry when he comes home from work that she won’t be there, that some day she’ll have found some other sorry sucker to take her in. And he still has that quick pump of a happy heart when she’s there waiting for him, that she still wants and needs him. It’s a heavy feeling that there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. 

The simpler part of him cherishes these thoughts and loves that he gets to experience them every day, often a few times each night. Like when she joins him in bed and sleeps on him, or when she follows him around the apartment, insistently rubbing against him in even the most mundane tasks of making coffee or filling up her water bowl. 

And he thinks he finally understands why more average folks chase after love, building intimacy with other people and creating memories like these, even if there’s the chance of crashing and burning with failed relationships.

Jensen doesn’t have a detailed backstory to explain why he avoids relationships like the plague. Just an average case of an overactive brain that drags him down the wrong path of worry and discontent. When he was old enough to realize why he was always running around in circles over everything he said and did, he drew a line in the sand and decided to cut those issues off at the base. He’d decided to just avoid all relationships and interactions, never let himself go beyond simple communication to get exactly what he needed out of life, and everything would be fine.

With all his frantic anxiety, he knows he’s been overthinking everything when it comes Jared. 

At times, since they last saw each other, Jensen’s wondered if there’s any point in figuring it all out for good. He’s also told himself he’s made it a bigger issue than it needs to be, so he should just drop it for good. 

It’s not like he’ll have to deal with Jared again. 

At least, not until something else happens with Val. Maybe he’ll just find a new vet.

* * *

Jensen is just as scared to make the appointment as he was the first time. Even more rattled to actually show up and come face to face with Jared after the mess of their soda trip.

Which is how Jensen has categorized it. He thought it could have been a date. Or a pre-date. Something leading to a real date. And he had been so very hopeful for it, but is even more sure that Jared had no intentions of such a thing. Especially not after Jensen’s freak out and quick exit with no real explanation. 

Yet, when realizing that his normally active and friendly cat has suddenly become lazy and cautious to Jensen petting her, combined with a sudden spike in hairballs, Jensen had to take action. 

He’d had some thought to find a new veterinarian and yet, he also felt that even when he wasn’t sure he could trust Jared’s intentions with him, he knew the man would do what’s best for Val, no matter what he thought of Jensen. He didn’t have the energy to suss out another clinic, not when he was already wracked with worry. So, he called for the first available appointment and silently thanked the universe it was the very next day.

At the clinic, he’s hesitant to do more than say hi to Danneel. She seems a bit quieter, too, but she’s happy to see Val and immediately rubs the girl’s head and cheeks while checking her over, as if she’s doing her own examination. 

“How’s she doing?” Danneel asks. “Any better than when you called?”

He frowns when he can see Val slink down on the counter to stretch out with barely any response to Danneel’s touch. “I don’t know,” he admits. “It just all seems the same for how little she reacts to anything.”

Danneel frowns with him and picks Val up, cradling her carefully in her arms to bring them to the exam space. “Jared will take good care of her.”

Jensen breathes deep with a sense of comfort, because he knows Jared will. 

Still, it’s a bit nerve wracking when Jared greets them at the table with a tight smile. Jensen’s sure he’s looking much the same, worried over facing Jared, not to mention hearing what’s wrong with Val. 

Jared barely gets out his first question before Jensen’s mouth opens and he rattles on, “She’s been really listless the last week or two and she’s throwing up every day, no matter what I give her. I’ve been going to all dry food, even cutting back on how much, but she’s still getting sick every time she eats.”

In an instant, Jared’s face changes from controlled interest to concern and his hands find their way to Val’s coat, fingers sliding along to examine her. “It’s good you brought her in before it went on too long.”

“It seems like it’s been too long already,” Jensen complains. “Every day, I hoped she’d be back to normal and I kept waiting for that to happen. I should’ve brought her in earlier. I could have, but I was afraid to see - ” He stops there and takes in a long breath to calm himself. 

Jared glances at him and Jensen immediately regrets talking. “Afraid to see what was wrong?”

Yeah, sure. That’s what Jensen was going to say. 

Focused back on Val, Jared spends time checking along her stomach. His fingers press here and there, then run along the length of her belly as his eyebrows furrow and he watches her barely react to his touch. After some time, Jared gently lifts her up to put her on the scale. “How about any weight gain or loss?”

Jensen shrugs, frowning even more when he sees how Val just goes along with Jared moving her around. “Not that I can tell. She’s hit a growth spurt recently, but I’d figure she’d lose weight if she can’t keep any food down?”

“Yeah, I’d figure the same, but …”

Jared’s pause does Jensen no favors and his anxiety ramps up. “But? But what? What is it?”

“I think she needs an ultrasound.”

Jensen’s eyes widen and he thinks his heart stops. Just how serious is this?

“I can do that in the back, if you’re okay with it?” Jared still seems worried, but also a bit hopeful to Jensen’s answer. 

It starts with a slow nod until Jensen is frantically agreeing. “Yeah, sure, whatever you need to do.”

Jared pats Jensen’s shoulder and squeezes with a warm look. “She’ll be okay. We’ve got this.”

Jensen nods again and tries to temper down the frenetic emotions twisting him up. “Yeah, of course. I trust you.” He feels silly for saying it, for not even realizing he was going to, but it’s out there and Jared seems to be happy to hear it. 

“Val’s going to be okay,” he assures, and Jensen thinks he finally breathes easy. 

The longer they’re gone for the test, however, the less easy Jensen feels. All sorts of things run through his mind, fatal diseases or major injuries he hadn’t recognized until it was too late. 

He looks at the front desk, but it’s empty. Danneel went back with Jared to assist in the ultrasound, and while he’s grateful Val’s in good hands, he sure does wish there was something to distract him from the worst thoughts that brew when his brain has the quiet to run free. Even just watching or listening to Danneel work at the desk or a TV or something would help calm him.

He’s just about to google _feline cancer_ when Jared returns with Val and Jensen puts his phone face down on the table so he can ignore how many letters he was able to get in the search window. There’s no point in letting Jared know just how frantic he’s been, especially not when Jared’s got a bashful smile on his face as he brings a cat bed to the metal exam table and eases Val into it. 

She curls up into her typical ball, chin resting on her front paws, and looks up at Jensen like she’s afraid of his reaction. It spikes another round of worry and guilt to see her like this, but then Jared claps his hands and laughs. 

“It’s exactly what I thought,” Jared announces proudly. “She’s pregnant!” 

Jensen stares and blinks as his mind goes blank. 

Jared chuckles and motions at Jensen. “Congrats, daddy!”

Shock is not a strong enough word and Jensen stares at Val for long moments until he finally answers Jared. “I’m not the father.”

“Grandaddy?” Jared offers, laughing at his own joke.

“She’s pregnant,” Jensen repeats. “Like pregnant with other kittens. A whole litter of kittens.”

“That’s usually how it works.”

Jensen knows his head is spinning and it’ll continue racing the rest of the day, probably for however long feline pregnancies last. 

Questions spill out along with his nerves because taking in this cat was a massive step for him, keeping it was an even larger disruption to his life, and now … this. Pregnant. With more cats on the way. “How far along is she? What happens next? I have no idea how any of this works.”

“She’s about six or seven weeks. That’s usually when you can see the babies.”

“That early? How much longer does she have?”

“Well, officially, cats are pregnant around 65 days, give or take a few,” Jared explains happily. If she’s 40-some days along then, I’d say you’ve got 22 days remaining.”

“That’s very precise.”

“Yeah,” Jared replies with a sarcastic smile. “It’s kind of like a science or something.”

“You know what I mean,” Jensen complains, rolling his eyes. After a moment, he huffs, loudly, shoulders rising high then settling low with the frustration of this news. “So, really? She’s pregnant? This isn’t some practical joke you like to play on your patients?”

“I wouldn’t joke about this,” Jared insists with a sure look. “She’s definitely pregnant.”

“How many does she have?” he asks, then stupidly adds, “Kittens, I mean.” As if the veterinarian who just announced Val is pregnant doesn’t know he was talking about kittens.

Jensen heats up with embarrassment and not even Jared’s kind, soft smile can ease it. He knows he’s a moron, sounds like one all the time. That stop for Italian Sodas was a master class in idiocy. Apparently he’s got more to give, especially when facing Jared. 

Holding onto his half-patient, half-amused smile, Jared explains, “I counted four, but it may be a little early to be sure. We can do another ultrasound in a few weeks.”

“Four, wow, okay,” Jensen says, quiet and slow. Just like his hand is when he reaches out to pet Val, running his hand from the top of the cat’s head and down her spine. “I can’t believe you got knocked up,” he mumbles at her.

Jared laughs and Jensen flinches, instantly pulling back into himself. “I’m guessing she’s still going outside?” Jared asks.

Jensen curls his shoulders in and keeps his head down as he watches his hand coast over the soft coat. “She follows me out when I leave.” He feels his defenses click into place and he explains tightly, “She’s always there when I come home. And it’s not like she never comes back inside.”

Jared offers him a careful smile and moves in to pet along her face. His long thumb rubs against her cheek and under her chin, drawing out long rumbles of satisfied purrs, noises Jensen hasn’t heard for a few days now. Maybe she feels better now that they have an answer, now that Jensen is no longer so afraid for her. 

“That’s not a problem,” Jared says carefully. “I just figured if she wasn’t outside then we’d be dealing with a Virgin Mary situation.”

With a quick look, Jensen can spot Jared’s joking with him, eyes sparkling and mouth curling up playfully. It’s a disarming display and Jensen breathes evenly to calm himself of the anxiety that’s been building since he first made the appointment. Not to mention the panic at facing Jared today.

“Plenty of cats are outdoors. So long as she’s healthy and happy at home, and not getting into any trouble.”

“Well, she’s pregnant, so she found herself some trouble.”

Jared smiles and nods. “Yeah, I guess she did.”

“I mean, I’m not a prude about it. Good for her, getting some action or whatever,” Jensen says quickly, trying to joke a little himself. It’s been a while since he’s tried to be funny with another human being; it feels all sorts of foreign, but Jared continues to look at him with amusement, soft and warm, so Jensen supposes he’s doing it right.

“You feeling better now?” Jared asks, bumping his elbow with Jensen’s. 

Jensen nods as he smiles at Val, rubbing just behind her ears. “It’s not the best news I’ve ever heard, but surely it’s better than what I had imagined.”

“You’re still worried?”

He holds his breath so he doesn’t sigh or show his frustrations. Still, he asks, “What am I supposed to do with more cats? I didn’t even want this one.”

Jared looks at him funny and Jensen immediately reels it back in.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Just that …” Jensen frowns at himself for making this all sound worse than he intended. “I’ve never had pets. Never bothered to take care of someone else. But I couldn’t leave her alone. It was raining so hard that night, I couldn’t leave her out there. So I took her in and she seemed to really like being with me.”

“You seem to really like it, too,” Jared points out, watching Jensen carefully. 

Maybe it’s the vulnerability of Val’s situation, or Jensen feeling his own care for her ease out of worry and into comfort, but he allows himself to admit, “I love it.” Then he tacks on. “I didn’t think I’d ever be a cat person. I’m not even a people person.”

“Some things change.” Jared carefully smiles in a way that makes his dimples pop and adds extra weight to his next statement. “And you’re not so bad with people.”

That makes freeze for a few seconds then he lets a bit of honesty out. For himself, and for Jared. “I really am. Especially with you.” He flashes a brief, nervous smile before getting back to his worry. “But seriously. What happens to the kittens?”

Clearing his throat, Jared seems affected by Jensen’s admission, yet he goes with a joke, likely trying to ease the tension. “You know, cats are like Pringles. Once you pop, you just can’t stop.”

Jensen frowns at him. “That’s gross.”

“Okay, bad joke.” Jared even puts his hands up in apology then explains, “We can help adopt them out. And there’s the shelter I work at that will take them in.”

Jensen’s hand rests over the back of Val’s neck, fingers dragging through her long hair. “But what about her? If she just gives up her babies? Is that weird to worry about?

“It’s a very natural concern,” he assures Jensen. 

“Would be it bad for her?”

“Honestly? The mama can get upset when the kittens first leave, but after a few days, she’ll get back to her natural routine.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with more kittens,” Jensen mumbles, eyes shifting to look at Val from every angle. There’s too much to think about, especially when there's only another month to figure it all out. 

Jared’s hand settles on Jensen’s lower back and he looks right into Jensen’s eyes to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay. _She’ll_ be okay. And until then, you call me when you have any worries.”

“I just …” Jensen drifts off while shaking his head because this is just all so sudden. 

“Use the numbers on my card, even the cell phone.”

Jensen shakes his head because he can’t imagine bothering Jared. Can’t put himself up for another showing of his failure to interact with him. “No, I can’t do that. I’ll just figure it out.”

Jared blinks while watching him, perhaps waiting for Jensen to calm down long enough to really hear him. “I insist that you can.”

Jensen thinks that seems to be a lot to promise a patient who’s only been here twice, someone as messed up as Jensen who’s run off with no excuse before and is altogether a mess of nerves. 

“Jensen,” he laughs awkwardly. “I’m the professional here, and I am telling you that I can help whenever you need it.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jensen finally allows. “I promise … to call.” Then he clears his throat. “If anything happens with her.”

Suddenly, Jared seems rather serious and he blinks then glances away. “For whatever. You can call me and I can help.”

Jensen doesn’t plan on taking him up on the offer, but it seems to be a pivotal moment to consider it. Even more, he allows himself to relax and offer Jared a cautious smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

And when Jared returns the soft look, Jensen thinks it just may be something more.

* * *

Jensen spends many evenings googling all sorts of phrases he never thought he’d have to worry about.

_Cat pregnant_

_How to tell your cat is pregnant_

_Cat ultrasound pregnant_

_What goes wrong in cat pregnancy_

Oddly enough, the worst phrase, the one that takes him a full minute of mindlessly tapping keys before typing it all out is _how many kittens can a cat have?_

Jared had said he saw four, but hinted at doing another ultrasound to be sure. Of course, that means Jensen’s mind wanders with worry of how many there really could be. 

One of the first web sites delivers the news that stops his heart.

_Most cats, or queens (unspayed female cats), have a litter of three to five kittens, but feline litters can vary in size from one to more than 10. That’s a big range._

_That’s a big range_ he repeats. Then calls out, “Yeah, you think?”

Val breaks out of her nap, whipping her head around to glare at Jensen for his outburst, and he frowns at her while gently rubbing at the side of her head.

“Sorry, girl,” he offers in a soft voice. “I should probably stop looking everything up, huh?”

_Meow_ , she says, but otherwise curls back into a ball with her eyes closing immediately. 

Jensen eases up his touch, just a gentle sway of his thumb behind her ear as she falls asleep, he and tries not to be too concerned for her constantly napping. He’d read all about that in his endless web searches and now notices she’s cuddling even more than normal. Eating a lot, too, which he watches closely. She’s already grown so big at this point and gaining more the further along she gets worries him.

She sheds like crazy and is constantly grooming herself. Somehow, Jensen no longer cares how much hair there is. Well, he does, deep down he very much does, but his new focus is keeping her as comfortable as possible, so the middle ground is buying more soft fleece blankets and covering the couch. He’s sure they won't last long, already coated in long white hair, but he’ll do anything to keep her comfortable throughout her pregnancy.

He tries not to think about what to do _after_. It’s not long until he has to face it, but he does a whole lot of arguing with himself that there’s plenty of time to sort it all out. 

Until then, Val’s the priority and he’ll do anything for her.


	4. Chapter 4

She’s fussy and loud, meowing nonstop as she falls over to her side in front of the food bowl.

“What?” Jensen complains. “You have food.”

_Meowwww_. 

“Your bowl is full.” He points at it, just inches from her face. “It’s right there.”

_Meowwww_ , Val replies morosely.

“I filled the bowl not even an hour ago. You have plenty of food you could be eating.”

Another meow and something clicks. 

Jensen thinks back to all those blogs he’s been religiously reading every few days, no matter how all the words are clear as day in his mind.

“You have plenty of food you could be eating,” he repeats slowly, doing all he can to slow down the realization about to crash upon him. “You have plenty of food, but you’re not eating. And you’re loud and crabby … and you’re totally going into labor, aren’t you?”

He stares at her and she stares back before lifting her paw and licking all over the back of it.

Another line from those cat blogs comes into view from his memory and it most definitely clicks into place. He had a feeling, but now he has an absolute notion that she is absolutely going into labor, which can be very quick and very messy.

Jensen is not prepared for either.

But he knows a veterinarian who is, so Jensen pulls out his cell phone and looks up one Dr. Jared Padalecki. The contact entry shows both office and cell, which trips Jensen up. The clinic’s website and business cards list both. Jared, himself, insisted he could be reached via cell after hours, had even flashed Jensen a very kind, convincing smile when he said it.

Truth be told, Jensen had never intended to actually use it. And he didn’t, so thinking about calling now to report his cat is, as expected, going into labor is really tripping him up. He decides that a text will serve him just as well, even if Jensen then wonders how appropriate that is, but here he is typing out the words one after another.

_I think Val is having the kittens_

_Like soon_

_Like right now_

After a deep breath, he adds, _This is Jensen Ackles by the way_

Jensen waits an unnerving long time for a reply. He freezes when three little bubbles bounce in the message for Dr. Padalecki’s response, then they stop and he cries out, “What?!” 

More frustrating is when his phone rings with **Dr. Jared Padalecki** at the top of the screen and Jensen doesn’t want to answer it. He doesn’t want Jared to hear the panic in his voice, to know just how unhinged Jensen can be when under the kind of pressure he anticipates when having to watch his cat go through the process of popping out kittens – _four_ of them – out of her body.

He intends to hit the big red button, he really does, but his stupid thumb hits the green one first and now he has to talk. First, he puts the call on speaker then tries to keep his voice as level as possible. “Hello?”

“Jensen!” Jared happily calls out. “Your girl’s about to bust, huh?”

Jensen hates the visual, but he agrees. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. She’s … she’s uh.” He looks at Val and she’s meticulously grooming her other front paw now, scrubbing it against her face after every long lick. “She’s cleaning herself.” The force of her paw against her head makes Jensen take a step back, and he adds, “Kind of aggressively.”

Jared laughs, loud and long, and Jensen cringes at how ridiculous he feels about this whole matter.

“But, also, she’s not eating and she’s just kind of vegging out in front of her bowl. She’s not hiding like all the blogs said she would, but she’s like … lazier? Even more lazier than she’s been lately?”

“Okay, cool, cool …”

_Cool_ Jensen mouths. Yeah, totally cool, sure, okay.

“Just get together some towels for her. See if she’ll lie down on them so she doesn’t make a mess of your floor.”

Jensen stalls at the images now running through his brain. “How messy is it gonna get?”

“Well, she’ll start with some discharge and then you know it’s really close. And you want something for the kittens to land on.”

“Land?” Jensen nearly shrieks. “What, like they’re gonna shoot out of her?”

“Jensen?” Jared asks, surprisingly calm for all of Jensen’s hysterics. “Do you need some help?”

He does, in fact, need help. In all sorts of ways, but he supposes the vet means in the matter unraveling in front of him. “Well, I just …”

“I can help,” he offers

Jensen sighs in relief and says, “If it’s not any trouble, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Alright, gimme your address and I’ll head over.”

“Right now?”

“Unless you wanna wait until after the kittens are here?”

“No, no, of course. Right. Yeah, right now,” Jensen rattles off then promises to text his address. Which he does after he hangs up unceremoniously … no goodbye or thanks or see you soon. Just, hits the big red button then types out his address with incredibly shaky thumbs.

Now his mind isn’t the only thing spinning; his stomach begins a spectacular loop of somersaults as he takes in his apartment and wonders how much he can clean up before Jared gets here.

* * *

It takes a while … both for Jared to show up and Val to have her kittens. He _just_ misses the birth, which means he also misses Jensen’s spectacular freak out, shouting and hand wringing and all.

But once Jared is there, Jensen is laughing brightly and showing him to the kitchen where Val is stretched out on her favorite blanket from the couch, cleaning her four new babies. 

“They just fell out,” Jensen tells him. “Like no big deal. She was going through these contractions and then they came right out, one right after the other.”

Jared laughs with him. “Told you to have a place for them to land.”

“And she didn’t even care,” Jensen nearly cries out, still amazed at the miracle of her so easily giving birth. Not once, but four times, all in a matter of quick minutes. “She was just like ‘oh yeah, they’re here now’ and then rolled over for them to feed.”

“It’s a pretty incredible thing, huh?”

“I was imagining some sort of torturous labor, like hours and hours of pain and howling. The kinds of things our mothers complain about. But she just took care of business in seconds. My girl’s a champ!”

“I guess I missed all the fun then.” Suddenly, Jared seems awkward. For the first time in all the times Jensen has looked at the man, there’s sees something halting him.

In an odd way, it’s comforting, given Jensen lives every day of his life feeling like he’s unable to step forward and say and do the things that first come to mind. 

Jensen does feel a sliver of guilt for asking Jared to come by to help, especially so late at night. And now, the deed is done, the kittens are here, and Jared is doing nothing but listening to Jensen’s play by play while turning his hands over one another and taking a deep breath.

“So,” Jensen prompts with the same halted way Jared appears. “I know it’s getting late.”

“Right, yeah, I should – ”

Jensen knows the end of that sentence, but doesn’t want to hear it, so he offers, “You want a beer?”

“A beer?” Jared asks, words coming out slowly like he’s never heard them before.

Or maybe because he’s never heard Jensen offer something like this. Jensen barrels right past that concern and explains, “I feel like we should have a celebratory beer. People smoke cigars when a kid is born. I don’t have any cigars, but beers seem like a good replacement.”

Jared immediately smiles, though it’s not like the broad excited ones Jensen’s been lucky to witness. It’s careful and restrained, yet his eyes are also sparkling like they’re smiling, too, so Jensen considers it a win.

“You look like you’re into good beer?” Jensen asks moving to the fridge and swinging the door open. He shows off the three racks on the door packed with a wide variety of some of his favorite selections, cans and bottles alike. “What’re you into? Lagers on the top shelf then Pale Ales, IPAs. It gets stronger the lower you go …” Then he searches Jared’s face, which has come awfully close as he checks out Jensen’s collection. Jensen clears his throat and looks at the beers again. “Or I’ve got some whiskey, I think. If you’re into harder stuff?”

He hears Jared’s quick intake of breath and feels a shiver run through him. He didn’t quite mean it that way, but he admits he rather enjoys the result.

“Whatever you’ve got a taste for,” Jensen prompts.

“What’s this one?” Jared asks, leaning in even closer to point at a top shelf can from Great Lakes Brewing.

“That’s a new one from them. Mexican lager with some lime. It’s a really great summer beer. I know we’re on our way out of the warm, but it’s pretty smooth and refreshing with a lil tart tang to it and …” Jensen suddenly stops, breathes deep, and forces a smile. “Sorry. I get a little carried away with beer.”

“No, that’s cool,” Jared insists as he grabs the can and pops it open. “I like all kinds of stuff, but I never think past whether it tastes good.” He smiles and prompts Jensen, “Tell me everything you know about it.”

“Well,” Jensen mumbles before rubbing at his eyebrow. “That’s probably the extent of it, for that can at least. But I think you might enjoy it.” Jensen pulls a second can of the same beer and avoids looking at Jared too much, even when Jared tips his can to Jensen.

“A toast,” Jared insists.

“A toast to what?”

“To the new mama. And the new grandpa.”

Jensen winces. “That makes me sound old.”

“Well, you do have a lot of white hair.”

Jensen shamefully touches the back of his head then tries to hide the movement with a quick touch to the side of his neck.

Instead, Jared reaches forward and plucks a long white hair from Jensen’s shoulder, one of Val’s. He holds it up between them and grins. “Okay, pretend it’s an eyelash and make a wish.”

He takes his time to think up a good one … thoughts of Jared suddenly flash before his eyes and he’s confused and excited all the same. But then he looks down at Val on the floor, still cleaning her kittens and keeping them close and warm. He thinks a little about that night he brought her in from the rain and held her wrapped up in one of his bath towels as her massive coat dried and he didn’t want to disrupt her until he just had to get to the bathroom.

So he wishes that she stays healthy, her babies, too, and that they all live long lives together. He wishes he can keep them all together. And he wishes he can continue going to see Jared to keep all five of them happy and healthy for a long time coming.

“Well?” Jared asks and Jensen realizes he’s taking quite a long time and probably ruined everything by counting down too many wishes. “Do you not have anything to wish for?”

Jensen surprises himself when he admits, “I think I have too much, actually.” He looks at this new tiny family at his feet, and he can tell Jared does, too. “I kinda wish I could take care of all of them.”

“Maybe you could.”

Shaking his head, Jensen admits, “Taking her in was a big deal at the time. Keeping her has been an even bigger deal, for me, at least.”

Jared gives him a warm smile. “But you did it. And very well. She’s obviously happy with you.”

He looks at Val again and feels a hard pressure in chest, right around his heart. “Yeah, I’m happy with her, too.”

Clearing his throat, Jared lifts his can. “I’m thirsty and this beer’s gonna get warm if you don’t make a toast now.”

“Okay, fine,” Jensen laughs. He ends up toasting to Val with the hidden wish that she forgives him for whatever has to happen in a few months, when the kittens are no longer fully dependent on her and they all face that fork in the road to figure out what happens next for all of them.

Then Jensen smiles and blows on the hair with Jared letting it go. They both watch it float down to the ground then Jared taps his beer to Jensen’s again.

“Cheers, grandpa.”

Jensen narrows his eyes at him. “Can you not with the grandpa?”

“Uncle?”

“That’s creepier.” Jared laughs, and so does Jensen as he adds, “How did you make it even creepier?”

“It’s kind of a talent,” Jared replies, tipping his can as he mocks himself. “Taking really lovely things and making them worse.”

“I know that feeling,” he mumbles. His mind makes it worse than Jared’s joke and does a quick replay of all the seemingly nice and innocent moments he’s had with Jared that all went downhill thanks to Jensen’s anxiety. 

Jared doesn’t seem to notice, or he does and decides to skate right past it. Instead, he taps at a picture on the fridge and smiles. “That’s a nice one.”

Jensen steps closer to see what Jared’s talking about. As soon as he sees the photo, him with Val in his lap and him leaning in close so their cheeks are pressed together, he spins away and groans. “Oh, God, I don’t know why I left that up there.”

“Because it’s adorable?” Jared asks with a light voice. “And you love it?”

It feels like goading, Jared picking at Jensen, practically poking him in the ribs and teasing like they’re in junior high talking about some crush. But they’re not, because Jared is the crush and Jensen feels all jittery just standing this close to him, let alone joking about pictures on his fridge. 

Jensen takes the picture off, putting the magnet back with nothing to hold, no longer doing it’s job. 

“Why are you taking it down?” Jared asks with a confused frown. 

“Because it’s stupid.” Jensen rubs his thumb over the photo, but turns it over so he doesn’t look at it. He knows he’s making an absurd face in it, smile too big and cheeks all puffed up and his eyes are a little wild because he’d be so excited to finally get Val to sit still long enough. A dozen other photos he took that night feature Val staring at him instead of the camera, licking his face or leaning into the camera to sniff the phone. 

Jared takes the picture from him and puts it right back on the fridge, slapping the magnet in place with a loud thunk. “It’s not stupid. It’s really sweet and you should have copies of it in every room.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, but when he looks at Jared again, the guy is smiling, earnest and open. 

“In fact, I want one for my office,” Jared insists. 

Lifting an eyebrow, Jensen stares at him. “Really?”

“Yeah, definitely,” he pushes on. “I’m collecting photos of my patients to make a big bulletin board.” Jared motions through the air as he announces the signage. “Padalecki’s Pets.”

“That makes it sound like they’re all _your_ pets.”

Jared chuckles before finishing his beer and fiddling with the empty can. “So the name needs a little work.”

“A lot of work.” Jensen realizes he sounds judgmental and he really wishes he could go back just 10 seconds, because Jared had been nothing but playful when dealing with Jensen’s silly pet photo. He tries to ignore the soured feelings filling his brain, that he once again has tarnished a nice moment with Jared, and opens the fridge. 

“Well, I’m gonna start the yet-to-be-titled board with this picture right here.” Jared taps at it and gives Jensen a big grin. “Because this is utterly priceless.”

It’s sweet, definitely, for Jared to be saying all this. Jensen can’t let himself go there, though, and needs to distract them from continuing to talk about the photo. He’s afraid Jared will ask about any others that live on his phone, and Jensen isn’t ready to open up that can of worms. So, he shifts gears and offers him another beer. When Jared checks his watch, Jensen immediately adds on, “Or is it too late?”

Jared just shrugs. “If you don’t think so?”

It’s just after 11pm, and Jensen figures it’s getting late for Jared, who still has to head home. But if Jared isn’t going to argue, then neither is Jensen. He’ll happily hand over another can and lead them over to the couch where they can keep watch on the new kittens settling in to sleep at their mama’s belly.

And if Jensen asks Jared useless questions just to hear him talk, then he’ll allow himself the comfort of realizing Jared doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop him.

* * *

_How are the kitties?_

Jensen reads the text a few times, even makes sure the sender really is Jared … making sure it’s really Jared’s personal cell and not someone else at the clinic, like Danneel. If it’s Jared reaching out so soon, and after the other night, then maybe this means something. And maybe that long, drawn out silence when Jensen had walked Jared to the elevators means something, too, where they both seemed to delay goodbye, but didn't have anything smarter to say.

A louder part of his mind tells him it’s just the same thing he’s been butting up against since he met Jared. The vet is doing his job and that’s all. 

So Jensen quickly runs down a maddening series of rabbit holes and each one leaves Jensen more and more confused and anxious. His mind spins with all sorts of complications and dead ends, and he’s not sure which way is up or down when it comes to Jared.

The man is attractive, both physically and intellectually. Jensen surely wouldn’t mind knowing him more, but there’s the trip up of having to dance on thin ice through this process of dating.

Lord, Jensen is awful at dating. Always has been and he knows he always will be. He overthinks everything already … from what streets to take on each delivery to avoid even the most minor delays to how much to say or how he says it when talking to customers and especially now whenever he runs into Danneel in the building. Adding on the complication of Jared and whatever these thoughts … _feelings_ … are, it nearly short circuits his already frenzied mind.

In lieu of figuring this out now, or even typing out an answer, Jensen decides to take a picture. Val is sleeping on the new fleece blanket Jensen picked up the day after she gave birth, to replace the one that was soiled that night. All cozy in her corner of the couch with her four babies nestled in along her belly, patches of grey, white, and orange all mixed up together that Jensen isn’t all too sure where one kitten ends and the next begins.

Jensen takes a long moment to look at the picture on his phone, zooming in on different parts to make out each individual kitten. Something warm breaks out in his chest and he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. Val did this. His cat, his baby girl, birthed these kittens and now keeps them close to love and care and watch over them.

For a minute, he thinks about how he did all of that for her, too. He never imagined he would be in this moment to feel so much about someone else, a pet, hell a cat of all things.

With that burst of happiness, he sends the picture to Jared and doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.

_That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever seen_

Jensen grins and types back, _It is, isn’t it?_

_Must be even cuter in person_

_It really is_. Jensen waits a few seconds, seeing if Jared is typing back, but he isn’t. Which could be bad, but it also gives Jensen the chance to add, _Want to come witness the cutest shit ever in person?_

It takes a full minute, maybe even two, and they are the longest damn minutes of Jensen’s life until Jared finally replies _You bet your ass I do_ and they spend the next five minutes making arrangements for when Jared closes up the clinic, what he’ll grab for them to eat, and if Jensen has enough of that Great Lakes Mexican Lager.

* * *

At just four days old, the kittens are incredibly tiny. Jensen is constantly afraid he’ll pet them too hard, even with just the barest touch of a fingertip.

In Jared’s hands, they’re so absurdly small that Jensen can’t stop laughing at the image. He even snaps a few photos. “You’ll have to come back every week, so we can track their growth spurts based on your hands.”

“Hey, as long as you have beer,” Jared says with a nod to the can between his knees, “I’m happy to serve as your measuring tape.”

Jensen thinks that sounds weird, even thinks about commenting on it, but Jared just continues softly smiling at the kittens when he checks out each one with careful, albeit large hands. Jensen wonders if Jared’s doing this from a professional standpoint or just because … but he tells himself not to worry about it. Jared is here, in Jensen’s apartment, happily inspecting the litter and even giving mama some sweet attention with long strokes over her back.

“So, they all seem okay, right?” Jensen asks as he hovers just a foot or two away, watching the kittens shuffling around one another to find a spot to feed. “I’ve been watching them pretty much all the time to make sure they’re all able to eat and that she’s taking care of them. Bathing them and all that.”

“Yeah, they seem great,” Jared replies happily. He glances up to Jensen with a sweet look, and surely it’s just how he feels about the kittens, but Jensen still feels the quick kick to his heart rate to be staring into Jared’s eyes when he looks like this. “I’m just having fun holding each of them.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jensen insists. “And it’s kind of fun to watch you do that.”

“Just kind of?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. Just that you’re here and that’s cool and I …” _didn’t want to say it’s amazing and sound like an idiot,_ he finishes off in his head. He’s finding himself saying too much lately, especially with Jared. He thinks it’s just residual excitement for Val and the kittens. 

“Jensen, I’m happy to come by and check on them,” Jared says carefully. “I don’t live that far away.”

“Yeah, of course. And I’m happy that you’ve been able to do all this to help. You’re really committed to your job.”

Jared snorts and looks back at the kitten in his hands, the one with more orange swaths of hair on its belly and up over its neck.

Jensen wonders what that noise is about because it doesn’t sound as open and calm as Jared typically is, and he immediately goes into a tailspin for saying the wrong thing. It had been going so well the last few times they’ve interacted and now Jensen has gone and ruined it with … what? A compliment to Jared’s dedication to animals? Is that what has really done him in when he thought maybe they were sort of, kind of flirting? Perhaps, finally on the same page.

But there’s something off and Jensen reconsiders those thoughts.

“Did I,” Jensen starts, pulling right back before he finishes that question.

Jared puts the kitten down, running a finger over its head before turning towards Jensen. In this position, a man as tall as Jared could – and should – go through some sort of diminishing effect, what with Jensen standing above him. Still, Jensen feels the world teetering enough that he senses he’s at his own disadvantage under Jared’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Did you what?” Jared finally asks.

There’s no way Jensen can ask _Did I do something wrong?_ because then Jared would tell him that yes, Jensen did in fact screw this up and will likely detail exactly how. Jensen would rather not hear that story, especially right from Jared’s mouth and so soon after it happening. So, he shifts gears and asks, “Did I tell you that Val’s back to eating and drinking regularly?”

Jared puts on a smile, but it’s weak and forced, Jensen can tell. He thumbs over Val’s forehead, stroking between her eyes and back to her ears, then stands up and pats Jensen’s shoulder as he passes. “I should head out.”

“Really?” Jensen asks as he trails behind Jared to the door. He hears just how disappointed he sounds, but there isn’t much else to do anymore, right? He’s already on this sad, pathetic descent, ruining yet another perfectly good interaction with a human being. One in a long string of what should have been good interactions with Jared, yet Jensen is so very good at crashing and burning.

The door’s open and Jared’s through it, slinking away along with any chance Jensen had to stay in the vet’s good graces. Maybe Jensen was foolish to think there was any chance to have any sort of connection here, even just as general friendship or guidance of a professional veterinarian to a pet owner, now in charge of four new kittens. Even if only temporarily.

“Glad you could stop by,” Jensen says to Jared’s retreating back, because it seems like that’s what he’s supposed to say, whether this visit is sadly aborted or not.

Jared stops a few feet from Jensen’s apartment, slowly turning around to look at him. The expression on his face is totally unreadable and Jensen’s stomach sours for whatever Jared is about to say to him.

“Jensen,” he says carefully.

There isn’t much to say at this point so Jensen steels himself from the coming blow.

“I know we don’t know each other very well.”

_Oh God_ , Jensen wails inside his head. This is not a good start to a sentence, especially in this mired tone of potential confusion or annoyance.

“But I’m sort of a straight shooter,” Jared goes on, and Jensen wonders if the problem all along has been that Jared is very much not gay. Maybe he hasn’t been all this time and that’s where Jensen went wrong, from the very start.

“Yeah, okay,” Jensen says with a put-upon smile. “I get it.”

“Do you?”

Okay, maybe he doesn’t.

“I didn’t come over to just check on the kittens,” Jared says, brow furrowing and lips turning down. “And I didn’t have to come over when they were born.”

Shit, now Jensen is ashamed for bothering Jared far beyond any professional standards. He knew he shouldn’t have ever texted him that night, shouldn’t have expected anything more than guidance in a nine to five structure at the clinic.

“I came by because I’m interested in getting to know you.”

Jensen holds in his nervous laughter and the quiet insistence that, _Surprise, you’re getting to know that I’m a basket case who can’t communicate with people without ruining everything._

“That’s all I’ve tried to do since I met you.”

He clenches his eyes shut against the embarrassment that he has read every single conversation correctly, yet had talked himself out of it each time. That he brought upon this tension and humiliation himself. He did this. He’s the asshole who’s ruined everything.

Jared shrugs with a lopsided smile. “And I thought maybe you were interested in getting to know me. But it never really worked out, huh? If I read the room wrong and you’re just looking for some help to – ”

“I am,” Jensen suddenly blurts out.

Shaking his head, Jared asks, “You are, what?”

Jensen sucks in a breath, holds it for a count to three, then lets it all out. From his lungs and his brain and his mouth, it all spills forth. “I am interested in you. I think you’re really kind and funny and so good at your job and of course really attractive. But I’m terrible at talking, or thinking, or overthinking and worrying over every single thing I say or do and it’s really kind of a problem, which is why I’ve been alone for so long and why taking Val in has been such a big deal for me.”

By now, Jared’s eyes are bulging in shock and Jensen’s not entirely sure he doesn’t deserve it after all his anxiety has done to twist up this situation.

He also has no clue how long he’s supposed to wait for Jared’s response, so he just goes on. “But I like talking to you, even when I don’t like talking to anyone. And there’s something about you that makes me nervous as hell to say these kinds of things and yet also makes me feel like I _want_ to tell you all of this. And all the times we talked, I had thought, or hoped, that it meant something then we would just circle back to Val and your job, so I figured that’s all it was. Just a vet talking to a client, but it wasn’t just that for me. I think I ruined it, though. And you probably think I’m utterly crazy and that you should definitely leave now.”

Jared blinks, remaining silent, which is far more infuriating than if he had a negative reaction and bolted for the elevators.

Jensen isn’t sure how to take this, what to make of the quiet between them, but then Jared slowly smiles and takes a step forward. Then another, and a few more until he’s standing right in front of Jensen. “Maybe we’re all a little crazy in some ways?”

“How so?”

Jared shrugs and gives him a lopsided grin. “Some people think I talk too much and am too silly and have no shame with my emotions.”

The only good response to that is a big gulp, along with Jensen blinking up at Jared’s earnest eyes focused right back at him. It’s like he’s under a warm spotlight, tethered to Jared’s orbit and unable to look away.

“Maybe it’s supposed to be that way, you know?”

Jensen feels and hears his own labored breathing as he tries to piece all of this together … they like each other, they’ve both said so, and now Jared is going down some path that Jensen isn’t sure he can see as well as Jared does, because he has no idea what Jared is asking him. And he says so with a small shake of his head. “No I don’t know.”

Jared chuckles and he’s now close enough that Jensen can feel the warm puff of air from those pink, so very pink lips that Jared licks. “That you never quite know what to say and I never know when to shut up. Like maybe that’s what makes this whole getting to know each other thing so interesting? Because sometimes I find myself wanting to slow down to hear what you have to say, instead of just run off at the mouth with any cheap joke I can dig up.”

“You do?” Jensen asks quietly, because surely Jared is not really saying all of this. Jensen must be back in his bedroom fast asleep, with Val on his hip and the alarm about to wake him from this absurd dream.

“Yeah, I do.”

“But you were going to leave,” rushes out of Jensen’s mouth, and fuck, he wishes he could find the control hatch on his thoughts. But as usual, when he’s standing in front of Jared, it’s hard to stop the flow of words through his lips.

“Because I thought I was reading it wrong,” Jared admits with one shoulder rising in a half-hearted shrug. “And you mentioned that I was doing this to help like it’s part of my job, so then I assumed it was you just seeing this as Dr. Jared making a house call.”

“I mean, I do really appreciate the house call,” Jensen says, because he absolutely does. But also he maybe intended to joke a little, and Jared’s crooked smile is a grand reward for his effort.

“So I figured I’d leave now that I knew … or thought I knew … what was going on.”

Jensen swallows a lump in his throat, pushing down the escalating nerves of this conversation. Even if it’s going rather well, Jensen is so terrified of screwing things up. Yet he feels like with all of Jared’s admissions, it’s possible Jensen can make a few missteps here without slipping right over the edge of the cliff and destroying whatever’s happening in this moment. “No, it wasn’t just me commenting on house calls. It was me just being really poor at talking to people and flirting and stuff.”

“So you were flirting with me?” Jared asks, eyes narrowing a little and stepping even closer.

“I was attempting to, yes,” he concedes. “And rather poorly.”

Jared smirks, and as he breathes in deep through his nose, his chest brushes against Jensen’s, which is a surprising turn of events and makes Jensen hold his own breath to steady himself on shaky knees. “It’s not so bad, now that I know.” Before Jensen can answer that, Jared’s face opens up into something more vulnerable that Jensen has never seen in him. “Can I kiss you?”

Jensen thinks that Jared asking, and waiting for permission, is perhaps one of the most charming things he could do in this moment, after all that Jensen gave away of himself. He rocks on his tip toes and nods, waiting for Jared to dip right in and start what just may be the most anticipated kiss in all of Jensen’s life.

Of course, that’s when he feels the press of something against the back of his legs and he glances down to see Val running past them down the hall.

“No!” Jensen shouts, unfortunately right in Jared’s face, and then he’s running past Jared to catch up to her.

At that moment, of course, someone has just come off the elevator and Val slips through the closing doors just before Jensen gets there. He searches the doors like it’ll give him an answer to what she’s doing and why, because she’s never escaped like that before, and most definitely never left his side (or at the very least, her comfy spot on the couch). But now she’s run off on her own and left the kittens behind.

“Why the hell would she …” Jensen suddenly remembers Jared standing at his doorway and he turns to look at him, where the guy is standing completely shell shocked. He’s not sure if it’s because Jensen yelled in the split second before they were about to kiss and ran off without further explanation, or if he has any clue what just happened and how dire this situation is about to become.

Jensen runs back to the apartment, grabs his keys off the kitchen counter, then rushes back out to lock the door. He’s already to the stairwell when he realizes Jared is still just watching him and the frantic worry about Val is too strong to have any sense of respect, so he winds up barking at him, “Are you coming or not? She got out!”

Jared finally snaps to it, glancing at the door then back to Jensen. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t even see … I thought you were just …”

Jensen jogs back to Jared, tugging on his wrist and pulling them to the exit stairs in a hopeful attempt to beat the slow elevator down to the main floor.

When they get down to the lobby, Danneel is coming in through the front door and fumbling with a dripping umbrella. She looks over her shoulder to the front stoop then turns towards them with a strange expression before nearly being run over by them.

“Whoa!” she cries out while tripping around the rush and melee of Jensen hurrying to the door. “Jared? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Have you seen Val?” Jensen asks, frantically looking all around the lobby.

“Yeah, she just went out. I thought maybe – ”

Danneel doesn’t get to finish her sentence, or maybe she does, but Jensen doesn’t hear it, because he runs out the front door and into a torrential downpour. His clothes are soaked in seconds and he’s wiping water out of his eyes as he jogs down the stairs and tries his best to see through the dark rain.

“Jensen!” Jared calls from the top of the stairs, still protected by the overhang on the stoop.

“We have to find her!” Jensen panics as he has a hard time getting his eyes to focus with rain dripping into them. He keeps shoving his hands over his hair and down his face as he jogs a few doors down to look all around.

“Jensen, come back here and – ”

“No! She’s terrified of the rain. That’s how I found her that night.” Jensen comes running right past his building and passes a few buildings in the other direction, looking down gangways and even to the other side of the street.

Terror fills him, colder than the rain pounding down, and he fears where she could be hiding and how hard it will be to find her. Or worse, if she suddenly drummed up enough courage to stand the storm and run off to who knows where for who knows how long. 

His heart is racing impossibly fast and he can’t breathe and the rain is so loud, but the agonizing horror of what’s happening is even louder. He can’t focus on any one noise or sight around him, and he keeps spinning in place to spy a big patch of white and grey fur in the mammoth shape of Val.

It really shouldn’t be so hard to find a cat the size of a small tank.

“Jensen, she’s – ”

“She’s gone!” he yells, anger overtaking any of the other emotions racing through his system. “How could she leave? Just leave her babies behind? Leave …” _me_ he thinks, rejection sitting like a heavy weight in his gut. She’s run away from the nice life they’d carved out together, run away from _him_ after spending so many countless hours at his side.

The whole reason he no longer cared to form connections was to avoid this sharp dagger of rejection. To avoid someone growing tired of him, of his anxieties and tics, and running away when they no longer cared to waste time around him.

He thinks maybe Jared is also at that point because he sees him rushing down the steps and disappearing around the side of the cement stairs. Maybe the guy’s running down the gangway to avoid whatever mess Jensen will be now that Val’s gone and he’s alone, with four abandoned kittens to care for far before they should be without a mother.

Then Jared reappears, sopping wet just like Jensen, hair straggling down his face in soaked lines, and his arms curled around a dirty mess of rags and legs and hair … and Jensen suddenly realizes it’s _Val_.

It suddenly slots into place and Jensen realizes Jared saw her all this time, spotted her hiding out by that same window where Jensen found her on the last spring rain over a year ago. She’d been at least half the size she is now, all huddled up in a muddy ball, terrified for him to touch her as she shivered in the bitter cold rain.

She’s a huge mass in Jared’s already large arms, and she looks a sadder state than that night Jensen got to her, probably due to her size and even longer hair soaked and matted in all directions.

Jensen races to meet him, trailing up the stairs and reaching for her, but Jared shrugs him off. “I got her,” Jared insists. “Just get the door so we can get out of this rain.”

Once inside, Jensen crowds in close to touch and pet and check her out, make sure she isn’t sick or injured, though she is a dripping mess like the two of them. Water pools all around them, dripping down their arms and legs and faces, and Jensen doesn’t give a shit at all so long as he has her back after this torment, no matter how short it was in the grand scheme of things.

“Why would you do that? Are you crazy?” he’s asking her. Begging, really, because nothing about this escape makes any sense, especially just days after giving birth with four perfectly healthy kittens depending on her.

She’s still shivering, but it seems more obvious now that they’re standing still and in the light of the lobby. Jared cuddles her closer to his chest while pressing his fingers around her neck, side, and belly, likely checking to be sure nothing has happened to her in the small patch of time she was out of sight.

“Is she okay? Tell me she’s okay,” Jensen pleads. “Is something wrong?”

“No, she seems okay,” Jared assures him. “Just scared and cold.”

“Okay, yeah, great,” he pants out now that he can breathe and think past constricting fear.

Suddenly, it all replays in his head for how manic he became in racing out of the building, yanking Jared along, and worst of all, when out on the street, that he was too lost in his panic to listen to what Jared was trying to say. Jared had seen her there by the window all along and those extra minutes had gone a long way to rile Jensen up so tightly.

“I am so sorry,” Jensen rushes on to say.

Jared looks at him with wide eyes. “For what?”

“For making you run outside with me in the rain like that. For not listening to you. For being like this. For being me.”

A frown creases Jared’s face, bringing his always shining eyes down to a dull look. “Don’t ever apologize for being you.”

“Yeah, but I just totally went off the rails and you had to – ”

Jared leans right in to kiss Jensen. It’s not long or particularly amazing, just a press of one cold, wet mouth to another, but it shuts Jensen up, so it does the job.

“You,” Jensen says before trailing off with a few more, “You … you …”

“Don’t care that you’re like this. You being like this means you ran after Val the second she was loose. I didn’t even see her, didn’t notice what was happening around us. I was too offended you stopped me before I could kiss you.”

“And then you just did,” he points out, blinking up at him.

Jared nods, turning his face down to look at Val, still all cold and curled up in his arms. “Yeah, I did. Mostly to stop you from continuing off the rails. But I promise I can do a lot better.”

Slowly, Jensen starts to smile. When Jared smiles in return, all soft with pink cheeks, Jensen has to distract himself with something else; it’s all too much to see when his emotions are already running all over, up, down, and left and right. He’s still scared as hell for Val, but then exhilarated that she’s here with him now, not to mention whatever fuss of feelings he’s got over Jared, growing brighter by the minute.

“Okay,” Jensen says on a quiet hush because he doesn’t want to push too much right now. Besides, they’re still in the lobby with his soaking wet cat, not to mention themselves dripping all over. “We should get her upstairs and dry her off. Maybe you, too,” he adds with a tiny smirk.

“I like where you’re going with that,” Jared replies with a wink before motioning for Jensen to move ahead to the elevator.

* * *

Back in the apartment, they dry off, then end up on the couch while Jensen admires how Jared is so careful with her, softly running the plush towel over her hair. She’s still shaking, though remains otherwise content in Jared’s lap. She isn’t trying to jump down and go hide somewhere else. Which makes Jensen wonder …

“Why would she run off? Just suddenly leave?”

Jared shakes his head as he keeps rubbing the towel against her in soothing strokes like he would pet her any other time he’s seen her. “I don’t know. I always thought she was pretty stuck on you all the time?”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen her run off in … “ Well, ever, he realizes. “Ever since I first met her outside, she’s just always been at my side. Even here at home. I mean, she’s been a little more sedentary the last few weeks with the pregnancy, but still getting up into bed or on the couch when I’m there.”

“Maybe she’s going stir crazy. She hasn’t been outside in a while?”

“Yeah for a week or two, I guess.” Jensen feels a little better to have some sort of explanation. Of course, he wishes Jared had the answer, being a professional and all, though he supposes there was a whole other matter of discourse when it comes to animal psychology. “But she didn’t even go far,” he points out. “She got outside then just sat there.”

“You said she’s scared of the rain?”

“I mean, she plays with the sinks and stuff, so water’s not an issue. But the few times she’s been outside with bad rain and thunder and all that, she just freezes up.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t even think to look down there. That’s exactly where she was the first time I ever brought her up here. Just all sunk into herself and scared of me to come near her.” Jensen reaches out to rub his thumb between her eyes, dipping gently down to her nose and back, just like he knows she loves when she’s warm and sleepy. “But you found her and I don’t even know how to thank you.”

Jared looks at him and silent moments pass as they share eye contact, listening to the soft, gentle purr of Val between them. The corner of his mouth quirks up and Jensen expects something about that disrupted kiss … or maybe even something more than that given the way Jared’s eyeing him now. “How about a beer?”

“That’s all?” Jensen asks, disappointment sinking into his words. “You just want a beer?”

“To start,” Jensen suggests. “I think I need something to calm me down after her escape.”

Once the cat is on her way to dry, Jared stands and pulls at the jeans fully molded to his thighs with how wet they are. Jensen sucks in a breath and squeezes at the cans in his hands, which he had forgotten he’d already opened and now they splash beer over his knuckles and onto the floor.

“You okay there?” Jared asks and it doesn’t take long at all for him to notice how Jensen’s looking at him. 

Surely, Jared can see the blush heating up Jensen’s cheeks and he steps forward to take the beers from him. He puts them down on the coffee table then brings Jensen in so they’re pressed chest to chest, heating up with body heat despite how their clothes are still cold and damp.

The kiss is warm and deep, ramping up quickly when Jared wraps his arms around Jensen’s waist and pulls him in close. Jensen finds himself leaning up on his toes to match Jared’s angle and it’s good, far better than the kiss downstairs in the lobby. 

It’s been so long since Jensen’s kissed anyone, not to mention like this. His nerves are flaring and making him want to pull away, but there’s comfort in letting Jared lead, allowing himself to fall right into it. In a way, it’s really nice to just take the time and enjoy the feel of Jared’s mouth on his, their tongues dancing together, hands roaming and touching and warming each other up. 

Suddenly, Jensen thinks about how he’s freezing from the waist down with his jeans, socks, and shoes still all soaked. Before he realizes, he’s pulled away from the kiss to tug at the side of his jeans where they’re particularly stuck to his skin.

Jared chuckles and asks if he’s interested in taking care of the rest of their wet clothes and Jensen surely knows what that means, so he leads Jared to the bedroom. Jensen tries to convince himself his shivering is from the cold and not at all because Jared fondly watches as each piece of Jensen’s clothing comes off, or how Jared’s hands are slow to touch Jensen’s arms and chest as he undresses. 

Jensen, on the other hand, is completely frozen when Jared pulls his own clothes off, revealing so much tan skin that Jensen is overwhelmed by the beauty of the body before him. He even murmurs a reverent _oh my god_ when Jared is down to just boxer briefs, and Jared grins at him with a cheeky, “You, too.”

Jared walks them closer to the bed and leans with Jensen down to the mattress, crawling over Jensen and covering him with his whole body. 

“Is this okay?” Jared suddenly asks, sounding small and unsure, worried. 

Again, Jensen loves that he’s asked, appreciates that while Jared is the one leading them here, Jensen still retains his own power to say no or ask for more. He doesn’t feel the need to right now, so he just nods and lets Jared continue with his hand roaming down Jensen’s side, pulling at his hip as Jared settles between Jensen’s legs and begins a slow rock of their hips together. 

Jensen slips his hands into Jared’s hair, wet tendrils twisting around his fingers as they keep going. There’s so much kissing and touching, Jensen can’t focus on any one thing, completely overloaded in seconds and just letting it all wash over him.

As Jared grinds harder, Jensen moans and kicks his head back to the mattress, which gives Jared the chance to drag his mouth down to Jensen’s neck and leave sucking kisses down to his shoulders. Jensen tucks his leg around Jared’s hip to bring them closer together and he knows he won’t last long. He just holds on as Jared rocks them down into the bed, wetly panting against Jensen’s shoulder and sliding his hand between Jensen and the covers so he can grab his ass and pull him in even tighter. 

Jensen’s mind wanders to all the things he wishes he could do if he had the nerve to just do it or even to ask, like turn them over and grind right into Jared’s lap, or reach between them and grab Jared’s dick to jack him off, or even ask Jared to fuck him. Those fingers would reach deep, stretching and playing to get Jensen wide open until Jared could push right inside … and that’s what does it. Just imagining what else could happen between them gets Jensen to the edge and he lets out a long, loud moan as he comes. 

Jared pulls back with a wide, happy grin, holding himself up with one hand in the mattress by Jensen’s head. He drags his underwear down enough to pull his dick out to fist himself. There’s finally a sliver of courage and Jensen wraps his hand around Jared’s to match his rhythm until Jared removes his hand and lets Jensen take him home with a tight, quick fist and their eyes locked into one another. When Jared comes, his eyes are clenched tight and his lower lip trapped between his teeth, and Jensen wants to reserve that image to memory, for the rest of his life, because Jared’s flushed face and dimples are a sight to behold. One Jensen never imagined he’d get the chance to witness.

When Jared’s back to himself, he rolls to the side and struggles to catch his breath, panting loud with his chest heaving. Jensen steals a few glances and wonders what all is going through Jared’s mind. Wonders what comes next, because Jensen fears the expectations after this, is terrified his hopes won’t match up with Jared’s.

He thinks it sure would be nice if he wasn’t always so buried in his own thoughts. If only he could force his way out of his comfort zone of complete silence to avoid negative responses. 

The thing is, ever since meeting Jared, he has been pushing his way out of what he’s always done. Even if it took a while to get here, he recognizes that he’s been slowly moving the needle all this time and if he thinks about it as incremental steps, then it’s not all too scary. 

With that in mind, he holds his breath for a moment then hazards to ask, “Everything good?”

Jared licks his lips with a low chuckle. “Yeah, everything is real good.”

Jensen feels warmth bloom all over, happy and a bit proud of what happened between them, that he made Jared feel good. 

“Maybe a little thirsty,” Jared adds. When Jensen moves off the bed to get a glass of water, Jared laughs and yanks at his wrist, pulling him right back to bed. “It’s fine. You don’t have to get it right now.”

“I was just …” Jensen sighs, willing himself to not overthink and just speak. “Being a good host and all that.”

“You don’t have to.” After a moment, Jared does remind him, “Then again, we never had that beer …”

“That’s all I need to hear,” Jensen says and this time, Jared laughs and lets him leave.

So Jensen goes to the living room to get the two cans, though by now they’re room temperature. He’s about to turn to the kitchen for two fresh beers when he sees Val in her regular place on the couch, curled around her pile of kittens. 

She’s sleeping peacefully and seems mostly dry, and if Jensen doesn’t think too much on it, it appears like there’s nothing out of the ordinary tonight. But he knows that’s not true. So much has happened … she ran off in a spike of independence and needing to see the outside world after being cooped up here for the last two weeks ... and then Jared and Jensen got over whatever miscommunication they’ve been threading through all this time and they’ve found their way to this very moment where Jensen is going to return to bed where an exceptionally naked Jared awaits him under some very warm and very hairy covers.

If anyone can understand an abundance of cat hair, thankfully it should be the vet.

Val’s head is tucked down by the kitten with the most orange and Jensen thinks he should probably name them if they’re gonna be sticking around for some time. Even if he decides to adopt them out and some other family will give them new names, he’d like for this time count together and make memories between them all. He knows he’ll want to take hundreds more photos of them all. Maybe he’ll even start an Instagram for them. According to his many Google searches, they’re all the rage now.

Jensen finally gets the beers and heads back to bed, initially surprised Jared has the TV on and remote in his hand, but Jared looks adorably guilty like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar that Jensen just laughs at him and passes a can. They settle in for some TV and at one point, Jared looks at him with a twist of his mouth and asks if it’s okay that he’s still here. If this is impeding on Jensen’s life or something, because, otherwise, “And no hard feelings,” Jared insists, “I can leave.”

“No, you’re not impeding on anything.” After a moment, he adds, “And thank you for asking.”

Jared smiles at him, like he’s proud of Jensen for saying so. “Of course.”

They don’t last much longer, after all the melee and worry over Val and then the excitement of what happened in this bed. Jensen is not offended in the least when Jared falls asleep next to him. He just picks up the nearly finished beer in Jared’s hand and puts it on the nightstand next to his, then slides lower under the covers to get a good night of warm sleep right beside Jared.

* * *

_Kitties good?_ Jared texts the next afternoon. _Happy to have their mama back?_

_They seem good. Her too. Even after all the drama._

_If she starts with watery eyes, runny nose, or sneezing, I can come check her out_

_I’ll bring her in if that happens_

The text dots bounce around then disappear, only to bounce again and stop once more.

Jensen still worries when Jared types out replies then doesn’t send them. He wonders too far down the line of what those words were and worse, why Jared determined it was best not to send them. 

So, he takes some time to think through his next message and once he’s got it all aligned in his mind, and gets over the minor freak out if it’s the right thing to say, he quickly taps out: _From now on, doctor things only at the clinic. You come here because you want to._

There’s another dance of dots before Jared’s reply comes in. _It’s a deal_.

The dots reappear, dancing all around a few different times and Jensen grows impatient with whatever message is brewing on the other side. 

Then finally: _Do you like Chinese? I can grab some on my way._ A few more dots and Jared adds _… if you’re free?_

_Mongolian beef and crab rangoon_ Jensen replies, adding a smiley emoji then _thanks_ and finally a kissing emoji. He hopes the last part isn’t all too much, but then Jared replies with an emoji that looks like it’s thinking dirty thoughts and Jensen is pretty sure his texting skills are pretty alright.


	5. Chapter 5

When he really thinks about it, Jensen knows this is all brand new to him, yet somehow it still seems very routine. He’s sitting on the couch with Val at his side, his hand tucked into the luscious fur on her belly as she sleeps.

The new thing, next to her, is Jared stretched out on the chaise section of the couch with the four kittens fussing over the red yarn he’s teasing them with. They fall over one another to be the one to trap the strand before anyone else gets it, and it’s a never-ending supply of amusement. For the kittens and for Jensen.

There are take-out containers filling up most of his coffee table, but he’s getting used to relaxing after eating, easing up on the frantic need to clean up immediately. And he’s been letting Jared talk him into new foods; tonight was Jensen’s second try with Indian; Jared insisted on Tikka Masala and Jensen agreed, so long as they got extra naan. 

The TV has been ignored for a while now, with Jensen watching Jared play with the kitties, no longer caring what’s happening to the con men on the run from the FBI. Witnessing Jared’s softness with Val and her babies is entertainment enough for Jensen these days.

It’s a wonderful image, this whole night is, and he wishes it could play on every day. 

Nights like this have occurred more often than not over the last month, ever since Val gave birth and Jensen and Jared have been watching the kittens grow, together.

He’s pretty sure Jared’s phone has just as many pictures of the litter as Jensen’s does.

Still, he worries … “What am I gonna do with the kittens? They’re almost old enough to ween off.”

Jared glances over with a smile before going back to playing with the kittens, who happily bat at his fingers. “You could keep them.”

“If I were being honest.” Jensen sucks in a breath and holds it. “I really want to.” 

“Then keep them.”

“Yeah, but …” Another deep breath and Jensen frets, “Five cats? All in this tiny apartment?”

“You’ve already made room for her in your life,” Jared points out with a steady look. “I think you could do it for the rest of them.”

He’s still not sure, Jared’s professional opinion or not. “That’s just a lot of change all at once.”

Jared turns to him again, this time with soft eyes and a careful smile. He watches Jensen for a few moments before moving in a little closer, even as he does all he can to not disrupt Val. She opens one eye and stretches a paw to Jared’s thigh, but otherwise seems unbothered. “You can handle change far better than you think you can.”

Jensen’s body heats up from the inside out with Jared’s soft compliment, not to mention the proximity of him, how comfortable it is to be this close when Jensen had lived so long putting walls up in front of everyone. 

There’s something reassuring about the way it comes in Jared’s voice, too, and the intent look he’s keeping with Jensen. It all really makes Jensen want to believe it.

Especially when Jared closes the space between them to kiss him, lips gentle and barely there, yet the impact is felt all the same.

“You made room for Val and helped her through pregnancy and birth.”

“I guess,” Jensen admits quietly.

“And you’ve made room for me.” Jared suddenly seems a little awkward as he searches Jensen’s eyes. “At least, I hope so.”

Jensen nods immediately, excitement burrowing deep down in his gut and he has so many emotions swirling around because he starts to think that this could all be good for him. Val and the kittens, and especially Jared. 

“Yeah, of course, you, too,” Jensen says quickly, hoping he doesn’t lose the bravery to say more. “I mean, it’s all still new to me, but I’m glad you’re here. At least until the next cute patient comes along.”

Jared smirks and nudges their noses together. “I’m a veterinarian. Every patient is cute. Hairy, but cute.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, though he appreciates Jared’s willingness to keep this light. It’s a big thing for Jensen to consider, let alone to do it without the requisite panic attack about every single end road they could find themselves running towards. 

“When you think about when we met,” Jared says, tugging on Jensen’s hand to get his attention again. “I was just some schmuck hanging around the pet store, wanting to give you my number.”

He wants to cut this conversation short and hide from the memory of that day, especially when he thinks about the clerk who wouldn’t take no for an answer or how Jensen was completely flustered under Jared’s attention. “That was not my finest moment.”

“Not many of them were,” Jared jokes. “But you’ve done so much for Val and her babies. _Those_ are fine moments. And you’re gonna have a hell of a lot more now that you’ve let them in.”

Jensen looks at Val, sliding his fingers through the white and dusty grey hair at her side. She blinks at him and stretches out alongside his leg, and he can’t stop the big smile breaking free. “I just don’t want to break up her family. She deserves to be with her babies.”

“It’s your family,” Jared corrects him. “And _you_ deserve to be with them.”

There’s a bit of a chill as Jared’s words settle over him, diving down deep with the real impact of care and love and devotion. He’s never been in this position before, where everything seems to work just right. He has Val to thank for that. Her four babies, too. 

And probably Jared. He has a feeling he’ll be thanking Jared for a lot of things in the future, least of all for tugging Jensen out of the solitary life he’d once committed to.

So maybe this little family can work after all. 

Jensen isn’t as scared of the idea as he thought would be. His own family, here in this apartment, in this home that Jensen made the moment he let Val in.

Just one moment has brought about change he never expected. He thinks he’ll keep moving that needle, finding all sorts of new things for his life, step by step. 

But first, he thinks the kittens need their very own cat beds.


End file.
